


The First Cut is the Deepest

by MsPeppernose



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Explicit Sex, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, exes to friends, mentions of mild body image issues, mentions of past alcohol / drug abuse, past internalised homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-19 19:35:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4758350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsPeppernose/pseuds/MsPeppernose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not often Pete Wentz can claim to live a quiet life, but with his band on a break and no love life to speak of, all he has is his kid and his record label – at least until Mikey Way walks back into his life.</p>
<p>It’s a chance for a fresh start, and this time Pete’s determined that he’s not going to make the same mistakes. They can be friends, and he can keep his tiny, inconvenient crush under wraps. What can go wrong?</p>
<p>Except it’s not <i>just</i> a silly little crush. How can Pete keep Mikey as a friend when he finally stops denying the truth? That he will always be a little bit in love with Mikey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Cut is the Deepest

**Author's Note:**

> My eternal gratitude to Immoral Crow for her beta-ing and also for her unending patience with me. 
> 
> My first Bandom Big Bang entry. Apparently I _can_ work to a deadline after all! This story has been in my head in lots of different versions for about a year, and I'm glad I could finally put it into words.

Pete juggles two bags of groceries, a Starbucks cup, his car keys, and Bronx’s hand. He has Bronx’s stuffed toy monkey under one arm too, so he rolls his eyes when his phone vibrates in his pocket. He decides it’s not worth trying to rearrange everything, so he lets it go to voicemail, chances are it’s not important anyway. His band being between album cycles means life is a little quieter, and at the moment Pete likes it that way.

He gets Bronx into his car seat, dumps his groceries in the trunk and then slides into the driver’s seat. He checks his phone purely out of habit, and the missed call is from his agent. He makes a face because he knows it’s probably a request to show his face at some event, or telling him that she’s booked him for something. 

She’s been doing it sporadically, and he usually doesn’t mind too much. During busy times with Fall Out Boy he goes to almost everything he’s invited to because it’s basically free publicity. If he just shows up and smiles for the cameras it helps ticket sales and chart positions, and he knows that it’s all part of the game. At the moment, he likes being able to say no, but he still goes to the odd thing if she insists on it, or if it sounds interesting.

He texts her quickly and asks her what she was calling for, puts his phone in the glove compartment, and with a backwards glance to check on Bronx, sets off for home.

When they get in the door, Bronx sets off running down the hallway to greet Bear who yaps a bark _hello_ to them, and Pete sets the groceries down in the kitchen. He potters around, putting things away and taking out other things he needs to make dinner for himself and Bronx, and smiles as he hears Bronx and Bear play together. 

The water is boiling and ready to throw pasta into it when he checks his phone again. His agent gives him details of an event that’s being held tomorrow evening, a fairly low key industry thing, and it’s one he already knows about. There’s an unsigned band playing it that might be worth checking out, and that might be right for DCD2. He’d thought about going to it, and he still might, but those sort of events are not really his thing at the moment. There’s a lot of falseness to them, schmoozing with record company execs and people who have power over his career is hard work. Lately he hasn’t had to do any of that, and the thought of slapping on a fake smile and faker enthusiasm when Fall Out Boy are quiet and he has little to gain from it sounds exhausting, so he doesn’t really want to go. But Bronx will be back with Ashlee tomorrow morning, and the band that will be there could be good for his own record company, something he’s happy to put energy into at the moment. Maybe he can go, avoid the fakeness of it, just look after his own interests and then get the fuck out of there. He texts back that he’ll think about it, and then goes back to cooking.

*

Pete sips his drink and tries not to look awkward and bored. He doesn’t want the drink. He doesn’t even particularly want to be here. 

He had finally told his agent he’d come tonight, show his face and stay for a while. _Good to keep your face in the public eye_ , is what she had said. _Get out of the fucking house for once_ , is what Pete is sure she means. He’s only staying because he said he would, so he checks his wristwatch again. If he stays for thirty more minutes he can make an escape without looking incredibly rude, but as the minutes tick onwards he cares less and less about looking impolite. He’s far too _bored_ to care.

The night is not a bad one as these sort of events go. The band that he’s partly here to check out are pretty great, and he’s passed on his details for them to send him more; a bio, a demo, their manager’s details to see if anything more will come of it. 

On another night Pete might have really enjoyed himself, but not tonight. He’s chatted to a few people, but really he has zero interest in being here or talking to anyone. He checks his watch again; only eighteen more minutes left and then he can go home and curl up on his couch with his dog who is far better company than anyone here anyway. Nights in with Bear or Bronx, or even one of his close friends are how he spends most of his evenings lately, but that doesn’t make it a _bad_ evening. It does make him a hermit, though.

Someone brings him over to meet the organiser of the event (what is this event even for anyway? He gets invited to so many of these sort of things he hadn't got a clue anymore), so that she can meet him, and thank him for showing up. He makes polite chit-chat and keeps his eye on the time, and the minutes go by so painfully slowly that he’s starting to think that time is actually going backwards. She excuses herself eventually to go talk to someone else, and Pete is relieved that he can go back to his corner and hide until it’s time to go. 

His relief distracts him, overjoyed to return to his quiet, people-watching corner and stay there for another eleven minutes. So he’s completely taken by surprise when he’s all but assaulted by someone. 

It’s an accident of course, Pete’s not looking where he’s going. He has his eye on an empty seat, and suddenly that’s replaced by a chest and a face, so close that the man’s stubble actually touches Pete’s skin. Pete stumbles backwards, spilling half of his remaining drink all over himself. Pete could get pissed, maybe throw a muttered swear word in their direction, and he’s at least going to give them a stern look for the trouble. But when he looks at his assailant, his next reaction is the complete opposite to annoyance; he grins wildly, because his assailant is someone who he knows all too well. 

"Mikey Fucking Way," he beams, his stomach flipping in little cart wheels.

"Pete Fucking Wentz!” Mikey gives him a dazzling smile, waits a beat and then pulls them into a tight hug. Pete goes with it and revels in the warmth of Mikey's arms as they wrap around him. He hugs back with all his might and inhales Mikey’s scent before he remembers he probably shouldn’t do that, it’s kind of weird. He’s so fucking pleased to see Mikey - but it’s been a long time. 

And he’s surprised that he’s pleased to see Mikey; Pete is rarely happy to see people he used to date.

Their last face to face meeting was similar to this one; completely by chance at an industry event. It lasted all of five minutes with an awkward hug and stiff conversation, neither of them having time to relax before Pete was ushered away to talk to someone he couldn’t care less about. There were a few photographs taken of them together, and Pete still has one of them saved on his phone to this day.

The time before that was several years before that at Pete’s thirtieth birthday party, and he had made a point of inviting Mikey. Pete had been happily married at the time, and so was Mikey, so there had been no ulterior motive behind Pete’s invitation, and they had spent almost an hour catching up while Pete neglected his hosting skills. 

Near the end of the night – and they had both been drinking then, Mikey before he got clean, and Pete full of birthday shots – they had somehow ended up in a dark corner, close together and giggling drunkenly. Pete’s memory is still hazy so he doesn’t know who started it, but they kissed. It was just a little fumble; quick and messy and ill advised, but it still turned him inside out. Pete confessed to Ashlee days later when he put the memories back together, and thankfully she wrote it off, saying it was a free pass for his birthday, but that she didn’t want it happening again. No one ever mentioned it after that. 

“Of all the gin joints,” Pete says, pulling away from the hug, and he really wishes he could tone down his smile. He probably looks like an idiot.  
“Yeah, fancy meeting you here.”

Pete stands back a little to take in the sight in front of him. Mikey looks great, really fucking great. “You look good,” Pete says, cursing himself, and he tries to gesture to Mikey’s clothes but winds up pointing at his crotch instead.

"Retirement is being good to me," Mikey says, with a smile.  
"Dude, don't say retirement. It’s just a deep breath before the next thing." Pete returns the smile because how can he not? It’s Mikey Fucking Way! He doesn’t say anything further because he’s not sure if My Chem breaking up is still a sore spot or not. They’ve texted a few times in recent years, and Pete sent his well wishes when the split was announced, but they never went into details. 

"Yeah, we’ll see,” Mikey says with a tiny smile that Pete is familiar with. “You're looking pretty great too, by the way." Pete shrugs, though he really likes the warm feeling of Mikey Way telling him he looks good, even if it’s probably just Mikey being polite.

"Are you here by choice, or because you have a gun to your head?” Pete asks.  
“About fifty-fifty,” Mikey says. “You know.” 

And Pete knows all too fucking well. “I hear you on that. I don’t mind these things when it means album sales, but I’m old and boring these days. Tonight is only to keep my agent off my back. I really should be at home with my dog.”

Mikey laughs. “Yeah. There’s a couple of guys I might be working with in a month or so over there,” he says, pointing to a group of people with their backs to them. “But really I was going to leave as soon as I can.”

Pete knows it’s silly to feel disappointed seeing as he was about to make an Olympic sprint out the door himself, but he feels a little pang that his chance meeting with Mikey might be this short.

“Hey, look,” Pete says before he can stop himself. “Do you wanna grab a coffee or something? This week?”

There’s only a second of hesitation from Mikey, and Pete can’t blame him. “Sure. The day after tomorrow maybe?”  
“Yeah,” he says, _far_ too enthusiastically. “Yeah I’m free. Bronx is with Ash this week.”  
“Is your number the same? I’ll text you tomorrow and we can figure something out?”  
“Yeah. Yeah, do.”

There’s another hug goodbye then, and it feels longer, warmer, better, and it’s Mikey who releases them this time, pulling back with a clap on Pete’s shoulder and a twinkle in his eyes that makes Pete’s insides feel a familiar little twist of something. 

Mikey heads back to the group of guys he’d pointed to, and Pete is left standing awkwardly with an empty glass, wet pants, and a goofy smile on his face. He snaps himself out of it and checks his watch. Time to go. Finally.

Pete can’t help it, but the entire cab ride home, he thinks of Mikey. Mikey Fucking Way. It continues when he gets home, grabs a bottle of water from the fridge, sits with Bear and cuddles him, locks up the house, curls up in bed with Bear at his feet.

He indulges himself a bit, and thinks back to _that_ summer. He thinks not just of how much of a whirlwind it was both for the band and for his love life, but also of how heartbreaking it was when it all ended.

Somewhere in his head, when they started it, whatever _it_ was, he knew that it wouldn’t last, _couldn’t_ last. Pete had let himself fall for Mikey, get tangled into him despite knowing it would be difficult to keep things together when the tour ended. 

He and Mikey talked about it sometimes, and they sort of made pretend that they could keep it going. They curled up in Mikey’s bunk and lay together in the dark while Mikey’s band tried to sleep in the bunks around them. Their faces were close together and there was a sliver of light seeping through from outside, but it was mostly dark and Pete liked that better because then Mikey wouldn’t see if his face gave him away. 

They made wild whispered plans about a My Chem and Fall Out Boy tour together. They played house and decorated imaginary living quarters that could have been theirs in some alternate reality, all the way down to the colour of the carpets. They planned out lots of dates that they both knew wouldn’t happen, including Disneyland and sushi and Star Wars marathons when they had time. Neither of them admitted what they both knew; the chance of a future for them beyond what was left of the tour was small.

Ever the romantic, Pete had assumed for a while that love would find a way and they would figure it all out. Days before their last show they had had a night-long conversation about whether they should call it quits when the tour ended or try to keep it going. Pete had desperately wanted to stay together and keep trying. He had somehow convinced himself (and then Mikey) that they could fit in a relationship around crazy schedules that were getting crazier by the week. 

It hadn't worked that way, because it rarely does, and they had tried to fit into each other's lives but it was easier said than done. 

Pete had never entered into something like that, let himself fall so deep, knowing that it would go nowhere, so he tried to hold on to what he could. He’s always let himself fall with the hope in his heart that _this could be it, the love of my life, the person I might get to spend every day with._

They had done their best, and Pete knows he had put everything into it. There were many late night and early morning phone conversations, desperate text messages, short lived frantic visits to each see other. It was all an attempt to bring a dying relationship back to life, to preserve it as it had been on tour, vacuum-seal it as it was, but it wasn't enough. 

Mikey had said that he needed more than either of them could commit to with their lives so full and messy. Pete understood even if he took it very hard, and although he didn't want to admit it to himself at the time, he knows Mikey was right. 

They had hooked up a few times after that, but Pete had always felt worse rather than better after their encounters so he had stopped himself from letting it go that far again.

They had both moved on, though Pete more reluctantly than Mikey. They lived their lives and kept in occasional contact doing their level best to be friends, because Pete would rather have Mikey in his life as a friend than not at all. They regularly made plans to hang out but they never followed through on them. 

Pete wanted to be friends with Mikey, but he could never seem to be get past the fact that something felt unfinished between them. On the rare occasions that they saw each other, despite his best intentions, Pete always opened the door and let Mikey back into his head. Pete hadn't been the one who ended it; he hadn't wanted to give up on them. And it was too easy to let his weakness for Mikey’s wit and smile and nerdiness keep him from having a friendship that could have meant something.

Tonight it felt so good to see Mikey though, and this time Pete wants it to be different to all their other attempts. Right now he feels semi-confident that he can meet with Mikey for coffee and it be nothing but reminiscing and catching up. Maybe there’s even enough distance between them and that gut-wrenching break up for Pete to be able to enjoy Mikey’s company without thinking about him in increasingly compromised positions, or wanting to hold his hand. He can do this, and having Mikey in his life in some small way is a huge incentive to give it all he has.

 

*

 

Pete decides to take a shower. He rifles through his bathroom cabinet for something, not really sure what, and pulls out a shower gel that came in one of the gift bags for some awards show he was at. It smells like sharp citrus, not his usual thing, but maybe that’s okay today, seeing as going for polite, civilised coffee with exes is not usually his thing either. 

He turns the shower up as hot as he can stand and lets the jet of water spill over him, flattening his hair down and soaking his skin. He squeezes out a handful of the shower gel and begins to wash himself, and it’s a rough exfoliating texture that feels like wet sand on his skin, leaving him feeling raw. He’s sure that he’s losing an entire layer of skin as he scrubs himself with maybe a little more vigour than is necessary. He’s not sweaty or dirty; he had a shower right before bed last night when he washed the day off. He just feels antsy and a little claustrophobic in his own skin, and it makes him feel better.

He doesn’t bother shaving. He shaved yesterday, and unless he has promo-work to do that specifically involves having a smooth jaw, he tends to do it every other day now.

He looks at himself in the full length mirror for probably too long afterwards, and spends too many minutes scrutinising his body, pinching at his belly that’s partly bloat from his pizza lunch with Gabe the day before. He knows he’s hard on himself, but he knows other people are hard on him too, so maybe in a way he’s just beating them to the punch, though Mikey won’t be looking at his belly anyway. Mikey was also a lot kinder to Pete than Pete used to be to himself. 

Pete’s wardrobe is extensive, _more_ than extensive, and he knows he has something to wear for almost any occasion whether it’s dinner at the White House or lounging around with Bronx or Patrick. But when he stares into the abyss, and the rails and rails and piles and piles of clothing, he can’t think of a single thing to wear that’s suitable for his not-a-date with Mikey Way.

When he first met Mikey, all those years ago, he’d been wearing some godforsaken shirt with a mildly offensive slogan, and jeans that hadn’t seen the inside of a washing machine in a long time. That was how he spent a lot of Warped; wearing vaguely dirty clothes, or slightly cleaner ones siphoned from Patrick’s or Joe’s bunk. Andy’s bunk was like Fort Knox and he kept his clean stuff safely hidden, but he’d happily share if Pete _asked_ and explained why he hadn’t got any clean clothes. That was too much like hard work, though. 

So if Mikey was used to seeing Pete in less-than-nice clothing in the past, why can’t Pete just make up his mind now and pick something? He puts on boxers, because at least then he’s started getting dressed. He pulls a few things out; dark skinny jeans, paler ones, waxed jeans he’s worn on stage, shorts – no, he’s probably not going to wear shorts – and a selection of shirts and tanks. He throws them on the bed and then throws himself on the bed after them, face down. Patrick would tell him he’s being dramatic, and maybe he is, so he rolls over and lies flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. He has time to be a little bit dramatic though, he doesn’t need to leave for another hour. 

He thinks back to Warped again and how crazy it all was. At the beginning it felt like a huge expanse of time, two full months. And yet, as soon as he and Mikey began hanging out together it all went pretty quickly. 

Pete obviously already knew about My Chem, and he’d met them before a couple of times, but he never really got to hang out with them properly. 

Mikey Way was awesome, Pete figured out. Like actually, really awesome. Mikey was a big contrast to a lot of the craziness of tour; quiet and understated, calm even. And cute as fuck, but Pete definitely didn’t let himself dwell on that bit at first.

The hung out a lot, and mostly by themselves. It gave Pete some relief to be away from his band sometimes, and certainly away from their manager who was keeping too-close an eye on him after his troubled mental state earlier that year. 

They started by just hanging out in the parking lot, or finding quiet spaces backstage, and sometimes they would take a walk and explore the surrounding areas. It was like a secret club, one that had just two members, exclusively Pete and Mikey.

Frank tried to come with them a few times, to hang out too, because Mikey was always talking about Pete, he’d said. Pete would have felt bad when they gave Frank the slip, except that he didn’t really want to share Mikey.

They graduated to hanging out in bunks after a couple of weeks when they couldn’t find a quiet spot of their own, and that was the best thing ever. Hanging out in a bunk meant sitting together in a small, private space, and eventually it lead to cuddling. 

Cuddling was one of Pete’s favourite activities, and it still is to this day. A warm body to press against, another person to be so close to and so still with is a comfort and a luxury that Pete loves. It was all very innocent with Mikey to begin with; fully clothed, (sort of) platonic, sweet even, but really intimate. Even if ever-so-slightly inappropriate thoughts about Mikey sometimes invaded Pete’s head during their snuggling, he always fought himself over acting on them.

The first time they kissed, it was after a few too many beers and they were both lazy and relaxed and squashed together in Pete’s bunk. Pete lay so close that their faces were mere inches apart, and he mapped all the little lines and dots and marks on Mikey’s face. He’d done that before during one of their previous super-secret club meetings, sometimes just with his eyes, but he ran the tip of his finger over certain areas too. He knew them all already, but he still enjoyed looking them.

“No really,” Pete said, pointing to a tiny dot on Mikey’s cheek just below the frame of his glasses. “It’s a new freckle.”  
“Can I really get a new one from just sitting outside for a few beers?”  
“I guess so. I mean, you don’t do sunlight too often, so I guess your skin saw its chance.”  
“Hey!” Mikey said, obviously halfway offended, but then his tone changed and he sounded amused. “Really? I got a new freckle?”  
“Yep. And I was here for its birth, so it’s my favourite one.”

Mikey laughed. Pete loved when Mikey laughed, because he seemed to reserve it for when he was with certain people, like his brother or his band, so Pete always felt privileged to experience it. “Your favourite one? You like other ones?”

“I like a lot of things about you, Mikeyway.” Pete didn’t mean just freckles, and he really hoped that Mikey knew that already, but it was worth saying, just in case.

Maybe it was the beer, or the fact that Mikey smelled a little funky but still so good, or that Pete really liked Mikey, but he finally let himself give in and go for what he wanted. 

Pete closed the two inch gap and pressed his mouth to Mikey’s. Mikey’s lips were soft, yielding, and maybe Mikey wanted it too because he kissed back. Pete pressed forward another fraction so that more of his chest was against Mikey’s and he could feel the warmth of Mikey’s skin radiating through the fabric. He pushed forward with his tongue too, and Mikey parted his lips enough for their tongues to touch. It took Pete a little by surprise, and his breath caught, making him pull back. 

Mikey went in for another kiss though, their lips and tongues meeting again. It was a little harder this time, his hand on Pete’s hip drawing him just that bit closer. Pete’s body was angled more towards the mattress by now, and not against Mikey, or Mikey would have known for sure how hard Pete was.

There was noise from the lounge, a rustle of papers and someone moving around. It was just one of Pete’s bandmates, and no one was likely to disturb them, especially seeing as they all seemed to know that Pete liked Mikey without Pete ever mentioning it, but it called time on their kissing.

Pete laughed, just a giggle, but he laughed. He was still so close to Mikey and he felt Mikey’s warm breath on his lips and chin. “I kinda wanted to do that for a while. But I told myself I didn’t.” He placed another small kiss on Mikey’s lips, lips that were now looking red and kiss-worn and fucking _gorgeous_. 

“Same,” Mikey said, and Pete’s stomach did about sixty little backflips.  
“I usually only crush on boys when I’m drunk, but I crush on you when I’m sober too,” Pete said, and then thought for a second. “Though I’m a little drunk right now. Maybe I just needed that to actually kiss you.”  
“Dutch courage? Glad you did. If I’d thought you liked boys I might have kissed you first.”

“You didn’t know?” And that was a silly question. How would Mikey know if Pete didn’t really know himself most of the time? “I’ve only kissed dudes when I’ve been drunk or stoned before and it’s usually messy and on impulse.”

“For me, it’s mostly when I’m drunk but I’ve done some sober guy-kissing too. Even went on a date once.”  
“Really?” Pete tried really hard not to be jealous of someone Mikey met before he and Pete even knew each other, but it was difficult.  
“Yeah, it was awful. He was a total douche. I decided afterwards that I didn’t like boys after all. But I kinda do.” He gave Pete a little smile, just a bit bigger than the ones he usually gave and Pete melted into a puddle.

Right now in his bed in LA, Pete smiles thinking about it, and he touches his finger to his lips like he can almost still feel Mikey on them. He lets himself indulge in the feeling for about thirty seconds and then shakes his head and frowns. He really shouldn’t be luxuriating in memories of what he had with Mikey. They’re about to meet for coffee _as friends,_ so he needs to snap himself out of it. He stares at the ceiling for another couple of minutes and then drags himself up. Time to get this show on the road.

 

*

Pete knows it’s not a date. It’s just a catch up, a _friend date_ at most, and yet Pete is as nervous as he’s been before going on first dates in the past. 

As Pete parks his car, he wonders again if he’s dressed right. In the end he chose his dark skinnies, a wash-worn Iron Maiden shirt, his trusty red flannel shirt, and his favourite baseball cap, so it’s not like he’s dressed up, but at least his jeans are cleaner than they were on Warped. He shouldn't be freaked out over a latte, and he’s fairly certain that Mikey won’t give a shit what Pete is wearing, even if his anxiety tells him differently.

Mikey’s on his phone when Pete arrives at their meeting point, and he’s facing in the other direction, so Pete hovers awkwardly until he turns around. Mikey breaks into a smile when they’re face to face, which remains there while he finishes his call.

“Yeah, I’ll call you tomorrow. No, I have to go. Because I said so. That’s a reason. Gee. Pete’s here.” Silence. “Okay, bye.” Mikey hangs up and makes a slightly awkward face, one that Pete remembers well. “Gerard says hi.”  
“Tell him I said hi too. When you see him I mean.”  
“I will,” Mikey says, and then pauses. "Hey." He hesitates again for a second before pulling Pete into another tight hug. 

Of course Pete squeezes back, Mikeyway hugs are always awesome, no matter the context. It’s a really solid hug, and Pete can feel all of Mikey's upper body pressed against him. Pete breathes in without thinking, like he did when they met the last time, and he inhales the scent that’s both familiar and not. Of course Mikey doesn’t smell of week old, unwashed clothes and Tour and hotel soap, but there’s something in how he smells – clean sweat and shampoo and _Mikey_ – that jogs Pete’s memory and sends him all the way back to lying together in a bunk. Pete’s not sure how long a hug from an ex should last before it gets weird so he pulls back, reluctantly. 

Not sure what to do now, he looks at his feet and scratches the back of his neck. He feels awkward and hopes he doesn’t look it. "So. Coffee?"

"That's why we're here, right?" Mikey laughs lightly and it makes Pete's insides flutter. He always had a weak spot for that laugh, and the way Mikey’s lips curve upwards.  
“And I thought you were just here for my sparkling personality.”  
“That too!”  
"Want me to show you a really great little place? They do these amazing salted caramel cake things."  
"Lead the way."

Pete decides to bring Mikey to an interesting little café he’s been in numerous times. It’s a café that’s full of hippie chic, and probably enough stereotypical LA pretentiousness to annoy some people. For Pete it mostly comes off as charming though, with mismatched furniture and incense constantly burning. Pete found it on a quiet day once, and then made sure he returned whenever he needed space, and to not get recognised so he can do some uninterrupted people watching. To get to it, Pete brings Mikey down a side street and then up a laneway.

“Where the fuck are you bringing me?” Mikey teases.  
“You don’t trust me, Mikey?”  
“Not if you’re bringing me down a dark alley.”  
“If I promise not to mug you, will you trust me then?”  
“I trust you.” Mikey sends him a wry little smile and holds Pete’s gaze for long enough that Pete’s stomach flutters for a second. 

The waitress greets them with a smile. Pete knows most of the staff from numerous visits, and today he’s seated in a far, quiet corner, where he often sits. 

They order lattes, and when the waitress asks if they would like something to eat, Pete gives Mikey a questioning look.

“You told me about caramel things. We gotta get one.”  
“Sure. One of the caramel things, you know the ones. And do you have the peanut butter things too?”

She nods, and then she’s gone.

“I like it here,” Mikey says, looking around.  
“Me too. I bring Bronx here sometimes. The staff love him. I’m sure I could leave him here for a day and take off and no one would miss me.”

Mikey tilts his head and his lip quirks. “I’m sure that’s not true.”  
“Fuck, it’s totally true. As long as I came back to pay the bill and collected my sugar-comatose child, no one would mind.”  
“Free babysitting.”  
“Well, not free. I’m sure B could run up a really big bill just from milkshakes and cookies.”  
“I’m going to come back here.”  
“No, it’s my secret café, Mikeyway,” Pete’s chest tightens when he realises he’s used Mikey’s nickname rather than his actual name, but he bypasses it. “I’ll share it with you,” he says, and then whispers, “just don’t tell people about it or it won’t be a secret anymore.”

“Promise. Bronx must be huge now?”  
“Yeah he’s six. He’s amazing. A proper little person. He’s smart and funny and great at school. Sometimes I still can’t actually believe he’s my kid.”

Mikey nods knowingly. “That’s awesome. Bandit is the same. She has fully formed opinions, and remembers everything I’ve ever said. I sometimes think Gerard is training her to catch me out on things. She’s into building stuff at the moment. Lego mostly, and I don’t mean little houses, I mean entire villages and cities.”

“We’ve done that too. I have a huge Lego R2D2, and it’s supposed to be mine, like luxury nerdy downtime.” Mikey nods and looks like he knows exactly what Pete is talking about. “But he’s so into it. It’s for way past his age group, so it’s not exactly easy for us to get through it, but we still end up doing it over weeks, a little bit at a time.”

“It’s constructive though. Like Bandit is into art as well as building. It’s cool to see kids building things. Hey, speaking of building, do you remember that blanket fort?”

That sends Pete right back to Warped, and it should feel weird for an intimate memory like that to spring up, but Pete can’t help but laugh. “The one on my bus? When Patrick got mad at us because I stole his comforter to use as a wall?”  
“Yeah, but Patrick wasn’t nearly as mad as Frank was over the one I made you on my bus.”

Pete laughs hard. He had forgotten all about that until now. “Dude, he went apeshit.”  
“He called it a sex tent!” Mikey says.

“Well, we were in our underwear in the middle of the fucking lounge,” Pete laughs. He lets his mind travel back to that day. They had holed up in their fort for most of the afternoon until Frank came looking for Mikey for sound check. Pete and Mikey weren’t fucking in there like Frank had ranted about, but it was a semi-naked make-out session which was frowned upon in a shared space anyway.

“We were in our fort-“  
“Which was in the living room,” Pete counters. “I can see where he was coming from, even if I was sad to dismantle it.”  
“Yeah, that sucked.” Mikey gives him a sad little smile, and Pete pouts dramatically in reply. 

As odd as it should be to recall making out in their underwear, the atmosphere doesn’t change and become awkward. If anything Pete feels more relaxed, like the ice has been broken, and the elephant that could have been in the room has been led back to its paddock. He lets his mind skip back to when they were in the fort together, alone, just the two of them against the world, and he remembers how wonderful that felt. 

When their coffees and cakes arrive the conversation changes back to how sweet the little coffee shop is and how heavenly their baked goods are, and they end up swapping recommendations for other eateries elsewhere in the city. Pete gushes about his current regular haunts, most of which are near his house, and Mikey tells Pete about his new favourite sushi restaurant, with the best sushi he’s eaten outside of Japan.

They skirt around Mikey getting clean, and Pete doesn’t probe at all. He knows from battling his own demons what it’s like to have people both poke him for information and gory details, and lay the sympathy on thick. He lets Mikey mention it, and then he lets Mikey move swiftly on after.

“It feels good to be on the other side of it,” Mikey says.  
“Fucking right it does,” Pete says heartily. He lifts his coffee cup. “I’ll drink to that.” They clink cups, and no one brings it up again.

Their cups (and plates of treats) have been refilled more times than Pete can recall, and if he has another coffee he’s probably going to start vibrating from caffeine overload, and he’s a caffeine fiend so that’s saying something. It’s probably for the best then, that Mikey suggests they head off, though Pete’s heart twinges at the thought their little get together is almost done. He grabs his flannel from the back of the chair, and sticks some notes under his empty cup, giving a little wave to the girl behind the counter as they leave.

When they get outside, it’s like a metaphorical fork in the road for them, a chose-your-own-adventure story. Should Pete shake hands with Mikey and be on his merry way? Or should Pete do like he actually wants, and ask Mikey to hang out again? He chooses the latter, because today was too much fun not to repeat.

“You wanna meet for a coffee again? I mean, I know it was mostly a trip down memory lane, but I had fun.”  
“I totally had fun. I’m busy this week, but the weekend?”  
“We could go to that place you mentioned for sushi?”  
“Yes. I’m always up for sushi.”

There’s another hug as they leave. It’s less awkward, and Pete makes sure he definitely doesn’t smell Mikey’s hair this time. 

Pete picks up take-out on his way home even though he’s full of sugary treats from the afternoon. He has a decent amount of paperwork to get through this evening for DCD2 – just because things are quiet with the band, doesn’t mean all work stops for Pete – and he knows he won’t have any inclination to cook later.

He lets himself think back to Warped again as he drives home, and remembers how that that summer held a lot of firsts for him, most of them courtesy of Mikey Way. Mikey was his first real boy-crush that lasted more than a blurry, drunken night (his Patrick-crush totally doesn’t count because they’re soulmates, and that’s different). Mikey was also the first guy Pete was with more than once, all other liaisons being quick-fire hook-ups where Pete had no real desire to see any of them again.

After their first kiss in Pete’s bunk, there was another one on their next secret bunk-meeting. From there, single stolen kisses soon blossomed into afternoon-long make-out sessions, and even though Pete attempted to convince himself that it was _just kissing, that’s all,_ it eventually turned into hands wandering under shirts, and then jerking each other off half-dressed. The first time, Pete lasted an embarrassingly short amount of time, but he didn’t care, he just let himself be overwhelmed by how good it felt to have Mikey’s hands on him.

Pete sits in his office with a document open that he’s supposed to have read by now, and tries to concentrate. Somehow, memories of Mikey keep clawing their way in, no matter how hard he tries to push them away, and he knows that seeing Mikey today has made them so fresh again. Pete’s an adult, damn it, with important things that need to be done, _professional_ things. But he still he finds himself staring into space like a lovesick teenager, daydreaming about the boy he was lucky enough to have coffee with today. 

He should be able to do this; have friendly coffee with Mikey without dragging up old feelings, and he should be able to separate it all in his mind. He couldn’t after they broke up, which was why all of their attempts to be friends ended up with Pete desperate to be close to Mikey, wanting to be naked with him, wanting him to take back the break-up and run away together, to hell the band, to hell the rest of his life. 

He feels like he should be stronger than this, better. He chides himself for indulging, for going back so far and still coming out with the same result as he always has. 

He rubs his eyes trying to concentrate again, but he only manages a page and a half more before he’s back to thinking about Mikey, and about their summer together.

He decides to distract himself from his reminiscing (obsessing) and calls Patrick.

“Hey.”  
“What’s up, Pete?”  
“I have the world’s most boring legal document to read through before tomorrow and I don’t want to.”  
“Homework?”  
“Yeah. Being a grown up sucks so hard. It’s putting me to sleep.”  
“Save it for when your insomnia is really bad. It’s cheaper than sleeping pills.”

Pete smiles down the phone. “You’re clever, Stump. Did I ever tell you that?”  
“You did, but not enough. Did you go to that thing to see that band you were talking about?”  
“Yeah, they were good. I might sign them. I need to hear more, though.” Pete hesitates and picks up a pen from the desk, spinning it over and over. He’s not sure if he should tell Patrick about meeting Mikey because he thinks he might know how that conversation will go. But then Pete has never been one for keeping secrets, so he blurts out, “I ran into Mikey.”

There’s silence on the line, and Pete can hear Patrick thinking.

“Mikey Way?”

Like there would be another Mikey that Pete would be mentioning. “Yep.”

“How did it go?” Patrick asks cautiously. 

Pete’s not sure how to fully answer that, not yet. “It was mostly fine,” he says. _But it made me think about him a lot_ , he doesn’t say. “We met for coffee today, too. Caught up a bit. We said we might go for sushi at the weekend.”

“It wasn’t weird?”

Pete knew that question would come. It was weird, at the beginning at least, but then he had a great time. He spins his pen around his fingers knowing he has to give Patrick an answer. 

“It was a little. But it was mostly okay. It was fun,” he says finally.  
“And it won’t be weird meeting up again?”  
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I hope not.”

Patrick is silent again. After a little pause, he says seriously, “Be careful, Pete. Please.”

“It’s fine, Patrick. It’s just sushi.” 

Patrick sighs down the phone, and Pete knows exactly why. Patrick was the person who picked up almost all of the pieces after Mikey and Pete split, and after any of the times they were together after that summer. Patrick held Pete’s hand, wiped his tears, told him to maybe bleed some of it out into lyrics, and _looked after Pete,_ when Pete didn’t want to look after himself. Pete was so grateful, and he still is. “I will, Patrick. I’ll be careful,” he promises, and he means he will be as careful as he can be. He knows it’s probably a dangerous game to play, but right now, he doesn’t care.

After his phone call, he forces himself to finish what he needs to do and then eats most of his Chinese take-out. He half-watches a movie, fucks around on the internet, sharing an image of Bear on his Instagram, and then writing a blog post on a blog that no one will ever know is his.

He crawls into bed and tries not to think about how much fun he had today and how much he’s looking forward to seeing Mikey again.

*

Sushi goes just as well as their coffee date, and Pete is more relaxed this time, even if his anxiety still flares and causes him to change his outfit twice before he leaves the house. The sushi itself is amazing, and Pete would be really glad to eat there even without the wonderful company.

At the end, when they’re about to leave, Pete thinks they should definitely arrange another hangout. He’s had too nice a time not to. 

“You wanna meet up again?”  
“Sure. At the end of the week? I’m busy the next few days and then I’m on uncle duty.”  
“Bandit’s going to kick your ass?”  
“Totally. How about Friday?”

Pete’s a little crestfallen. That might be a problem. “I have Bronx. We’re going to the zoo. He’s been learning all about animals, so he’s going to school me on lions and tigers and bears, oh my!” Pete grins, before that little metaphorical lightbulb flashes over his head and gives him an idea. “Oh, do you want to come with us?”

“With you and Bronx?” Mikey hesitates, and Pete thinks he’s fucked up. Asking his ex to hang out with him and his kid is probably weird. But then Mikey cocks an eyebrow as he considers, and says, “sure. Sounds good. Let me know where and when.”

“Awesome,” Pete grins, because it really does sound fucking awesome.

Pete is tired when he gets home, so he heads to his bedroom and lies down on top of the covers, still fully dressed. Today was so fucking weird. Meeting Mikey like they’ve done recently and everything being so casual is something that he wouldn’t have been able to do until recently. The times that they met socially in the past either ended up with them sleeping together, or with Pete needing to leave before his heart broke in two yet again.

And then, because Pete is his own worst enemy, he thinks of all those times they spent lying squashed into a bunk; cuddling, protecting each other from the universe, or getting each other off - there ended up being quite a lot of those by the end of the summer.

The first time they wound up naked together is something that Pete is going to have in his spank bank for fucking ever. He’s thought about that day more than a few times since, with his hand furiously working his own dick, until he’s breathless and coming undone to the memory of it. He hasn’t let himself think about it in a while, but after his time with Mikey today, and what with Mikey looking so damn good, he finds his mind wandering in that direction. 

He closes his eyes now, and runs his palm over his belly, over the flat of it, and then straight down the line of fine hair that he doesn’t bother removing as often as he used to. He can’t quite seem to help himself, but he remembers the feeling of Mikey’s fingertip running down that same patch of skin. 

After they jerked each other off that first time, they obviously repeated it, because it was just utterly amazing. They often made out shirtless anyway, and Pete loved that because it felt so fucking nice to have Mikey’s skin grazing his in so many places. When they swapped handjobs, they would undo their pants and shove them down a little, sharing more skin with each other. But finally, Pete had a bubble of bravery in his stomach, and he pushed Mikey’s jeans down over his bony hips, and he just kept going and slid them right down his thighs. 

Pete shifts on his mattress, letting his legs fall open a little wider at the thought. He skims his hand over his skin from hip to hip, all along his waistband. He knows he shouldn’t do this, not after today went so well and he and Mikey had such a nice, friendly, platonic time. 

And yet.

Mikey had looked uncertain when Pete tugged his jeans down, but thankfully just went with it, because as soon as Pete had started it, he really wanted it. Pete remembers being so nervous, though, as he undid his own jeans and kicked them off. He waited a beat, and then pulled his own boxers off too. He figured it might be less scary for Mikey if he got naked first, though he felt exposed as all hell. Mikey understood, and Pete was so fucking glad that they always seemed to be on the same page; Mikey pulled his boxers down and then they were gone.

And then it was just bare skin, planes of it, all for Pete to touch and look at and explore.

Right now on his bed, he can feel himself getting hard pretty quickly at the thought. He fights it for another thirty seconds and then starts to undo his jeans. He rubs his palm over himself, through his boxers to begin with, and bites back a little moan at the first contact. It’s just a light touch. He teases his fingertips along the hard line of his erection, and then rubs downwards with his whole hand. But he stops at that, and moves his hand back to his hip, still trying to resist the urge to touch himself properly.

Pete remembers spending a long time trailing his fingers down Mikey’s sides, and revelling in the way he didn’t get impeded by denim when he reached Mikey’s hips. He touched Mikey’s thighs, down the front, back and insides of them, because he could. He spent a while squeezing Mikey’s naked ass, because it was tiny and firm and gorgeous, and right there. Pete dipped his finger just slightly between the cheeks, and it made Mikey groan in such a gorgeous way that he filed it away to try again in the future. He knew he would definitely ask Mikey if he could do it again someday, but that particular day he had so much other gorgeous skin to touch. 

Pete is so hard now, and his hips are moving minutely, even though he’s not touching himself. He gives in and opens his jeans further, pushing them down and then pushing his boxers down too. He wraps his hand around his dick and gives himself a single stroke, firm and tight, and of course he can’t possibly use any other jerk off fantasy now that he’s started thinking of Mikey.

He lets his brain skip back to that day in his bunk, and remembers climbing on top so that he was over Mikey. His thighs bracketed Mikey’s, and he knew that if he just pressed down that their dicks would slide together. He restrained himself, though, because the thought alone made his cock throb, and he wanted Mikey to come first. 

His cock is throbbing right now as he slides his fist up and down again, and his pace is still slow, but his grip is solid enough to spark pleasure though his body on each stroke. He circles his thumb around the head, and closes his eyes as he thinks of how Mikey felt under him, naked and hard and whimpering at every tiny touch to his bare skin.

Pete can still remember the low moan Mikey made when he rubbed along the soft skin of the inside of Mikey’s thigh and then up over the crease of his groin. He kept the pressure feather-light, and Mikey panted and arched closer. From the way his thighs trembled, Pete knew Mikey was close, and he rubbed his knuckle down the fine hair of Mikey’s happy trail so slowly. He wasn’t trying to tease, it was just a little overwhelming by being able to touch all of the parts of Mikey that he wanted to without stupid clothing to get in the way. 

Up until that point in the summer, and actually for a long time before that, Pete had fought himself and told himself he did not want this, but he did. He wanted. He still wants, and his hand is moving faster now. He groans at the memory of Mikey coming. Pete had barely had to touch his dick, only given him a few quick strokes, almost as an afterthought.

Pete was nearly as breathless as Mikey by the time Mikey was spilling onto his hand. It was so much to take in, and Mikey kissed him then, just pulled him closer and wrapped his arms around him.

Pete stops his hand moving on his dick and he sits up to pull his shirt off, and then kicks his pants and boxers off as well. If he’s jerking off to the memory of being naked with Mikey, he needs to be naked right now, too. He lies down again, head thrown back, and closes his eyes once more as he cups one hand around his balls, and starts to stroke his cock again with the other.

He remembers giving in and leaning his weight right down so that he was flush against Mikey, his hard-on pressing against Mikey’s hip. He hisses at the memory of the pressure, and Mikey’s soft, warm skin against his dick. He thinks of the way Mikey kissed him, stroking his tongue deep into Pete’s mouth and over his lips, and Pete licks his lips trying to remember how Mikey tasted. 

Pete begins to touch himself just like Mikey did that day, trailing his fingers all over his body, exploring, just like Pete had done to him. Pete had been so careful when he touched Mikey, not wanting to get carried away and let himself come first. Mikey was a little more rough, moving more quickly, and he gave Pete biting kisses.

Pete’s hips moved all by themselves that day, he’s sure of it, rocking against Mikey’s thigh again and again. They’re bucking the same way today, but right now it’s into his fist, faster and faster, losing control. He bites on his lip and whines. So close. 

He remembers Mikey’s voice, rough and awed, and he said, “Come on, Pete. Want to see you come.”

Pete feels the heat bloom in the pit of his belly, slowly at first, and then all at once, just as he felt that day, and he comes, gasping with his head back and his hips off the bed. He swears repeatedly and just focuses on his breathing and the feeling of his heart pounding so fast in his chest. Fuck, he hasn’t let himself do that in quite a while. 

He’d never cuddled naked with a guy before that day, so he wasn’t sure what the protocol was, but as ever, he and Mikey seemed to be on the same page. Mikey didn’t move, didn’t flinch or desperately try to cover himself up, so Pete settled down next to him, close enough to put his head on Mikey’s shoulder. Mikey’s skin felt clammy under his cheek.

“So that was another first,” Pete said after a few minutes. 

“Humped my leg?” Mikey said, and there was a playful tone in his voice, though Pete knew he wasn’t mocking him.

“Well, kinda. But I mean, like, naked. With you. With a guy. I’ve never,” Pete said, and really it was silly to feel even more exposed since he was already butt-naked, but he did. He did until Mikey said, “Me either,” and then Pete grinned. It felt like another thing that was special and just between them. 

Pete smiles now at the memory. That little bunk was like a haven the rest of the world couldn’t reach – the doom and pressure and fear of letting his band down couldn’t get in under the curtain. Sometimes the world felt like too much, and Mikey was his confidant, his therapist, his friend and eventually his lover. The only times Pete was truly happy for that entire summer was in that bunk, or on stage with kids screaming for his band, his boys. 

His smile fades when he remembers that he shouldn’t have done what he just did. He and Mikey got along so well today, and they’ve made semi-solid plans to meet again. He’s sullied everything by getting himself off to old memories. Guilt replaces the warm, fuzzy feeling he had in his stomach as he grabs his discarded shirt, and wipes the come off his hand and his belly. He tosses it across the room half-heartedly at the hamper and it misses. Of course. He rolls his eyes as he gets up and heads to the bathroom.

Maybe he can scrub away his guilt in the shower, or at least make himself smell less like shame.

*

The rest of Pete’s week is pretty uneventful. He has a few DCD2 meetings, including one with the management of the band from the event he went to. He’s a long way off actually signing on the dotted line and getting them on board, but once the usual inch-thick pile of paperwork has been sorted, they should will be a welcome member of the DCD2 family.

He has a couple of other things to do, and few other record company meetings, but none of them take up that much time. His time with Bronx is always very full, so he likes the less busy days like this more than he used to.

He writes a bit; possible lyrics, anonymous blog posts, not-so-anonymous blog posts, broken musings in various notebooks stashed across the house. He hangs out with Travie, smokes it up for an evening with Brendon. There’s a lot of downtime, and part of him feels like he’s just letting the days pass so that he can get to his zoo day with Bronx quicker. He tells himself it has nothing to do with the fact that Mikey is coming too.

When he picks up Bronx on Thursday, he tells Ashlee that their plans include a trip to the zoo, but he doesn’t mention that Mikey may be coming with them, knowing too well that her reaction would be an eyeroll and a little warning. Ashlee knows about Pete’s _thing_ with Mikey. Pete had told her about their summer together, and she seemed to know that half of Fall Out Boy’s next album was directed towards Pete’s broken heart without him explaining anything more. They talked it out it a little, and Pete was _happy_ with Ashlee (at least until near the end), so she didn’t care at all that his preceding relationship was a significant one. She was far more understanding than he’d thought she would be, and somewhere in his brain he thinks she might know that Pete retained feelings for Mikey throughout their marriage, even if they were very vague feelings at the time. But he tells himself he’s not trying to hide anything by omitting that detail, and somehow he believes it.

Bronx doesn’t know Mikey, so Pete introduces them, and Bronx is an easy going kid so he doesn’t question anything. They chat about which animals they want to see, and Bronx is so excited for the monkeys, and most of the large-and-scary things like the big cats. Mikey says he doesn’t have a preference but hasn’t been to the zoo in years so he’s excited for any of it. Pete is just excited to spend the day with his son and Mikey.

There’s tons to see, and they set off with their little map in hand, making note of which animal enclosures they want to visit, which ones can be missed if they’re short on time, and which ones have feeding times noted and can’t be missed.

Pete listens as Bronx tells him all about the orangutans, how they’re endangered, how closely they’re related to humans and how the name orangutan translates to _man of the jungle._ Pete smiles. He loves when Bronx tells him stuff like this, he swells with pride that his kid is so smart.

Pete likes the koalas quite a lot. 

“They sleep for, like, eighteen hours a day. Some days I’d like to be a koala,” he says wistfully.  
“But you have to eat eucalyptus all day,” Mikey points out.  
“Yeah, maybe a koala who eats burgers and sushi.”  
“You’d be really fluffy, daddy.”  
“I would, but I could cope with that. I could give up on shaving without looking like a mad scientist.” He strokes his unshaven jaw absently.  
“And you’d have really awesome ears. Look at those,” Mikey chimes in, pointing to the extremely fluffy ears of the koala in front of them. Pete grins and watches as it slowly chews on a stalk.  
“Excellent. I’m when I die, I’m coming back as a koala. I’d be great for cuddling with.”

Mikey looks at him, and there’s a moment when their eyes lock, when it’s possible they’re both remembering cuddling together – Pete certainly is – but it’s broken when Bronx is off to the next animal.

Mikey reads the information card on the wall outside the African Lions enclosure as Pete watches Bronx, and Bronx has his nose pressed up against the glass so he can get as close as possible. 

“It says that they eat meat which I knew, but it says they eat sometimes ostrich eggs, which I didn’t know.”  
“You think they cook ‘em?” Pete grins.  
“Yeah, I bet they have little pans to make scrambled eggs. Toasters too.”  
“Toast is a major component of any lion’s diet.”

Pete giggles as Bronx throws him a _Dad, you’re so embarrassing_ look, and then throws one at Mikey too for good measure. Pete had once thought that only teenagers got embarrassed by their parents, but not so. 

“That told you,” Mikey says when Bronx is out of earshot.  
“I always wonder why he’s never embarrassed by me hopping around on stage or making stupid faces in photos, but he’s still mortified by my little jokes.”  
“Kids are weird,” Mikey says fondly.  
“That they are.”

The lioness stalks around the back of the paddock for a bit, and then settles in a patch of sunlight. The male lion wanders up to the front and noses up against the thick glass. The lion obviously knows he has an audience and looks like he’s deciding to show his dominance. He goes up on his hind legs, front paws against the glass, and while several of the adults _ooh_ and _aah_ in wonder and maybe fear, Bronx doesn’t so much as flinch even though there’s only a sheet of glass between him and a huge beast. Pete always thinks he could learn a thing or two from his kid about being brave. He makes a point of not looking at Mikey when he thinks of being brave, because he already feels pretty brave hanging out with him after everything that happened.

There’s a Sumatran Tiger family who seem to be emulating characteristics stereotypical to human families, and Pete grins as the mother tiger breaks two squabbling cubs apart. 

They happen to be there for feeding time, which is very special, and Pete watches Bronx’s face full of open awe as the big cats tear enormous lumps of raw meat apart. The male tiger has a particularly huge chunk of dead animal between his front paws, and glares at the crowd watching him, in full territorial mode.

“Fuck,” Pete says. It’s a pretty fucking cool thing to see.  
“Dollar in the jar, Daddy,” Bronx says and Pete makes a face.  
“Sorry. Remind me when we get home.” He turns to Mikey, and drops his voice low as he says, “Swear jar. He was starting to pick up my colourful language. The deal is that I’m only allowed to swear if it’s work related.”  
“Easy to forget,” Mikey says with a smirk.  
“Tell me about it. There’ll be at least five more dollars to put in by the time we get home. He’ll remember, too.”  
“Kids are information sponges. I knew it.”  
“I won’t tell him that you used to have a shirt that said _Mikey Fucking Way._ ”  
“Daddy. That’s another dollar.”  
“Shi- Sorry, buddy. My bad,” he says, and to Mikey he just gives a look that says _I told you so._

They get ice creams, and find a bench to sit on. Pete can’t keep the grin off his face because he has his very happy kid on one side of him, and Mikey Fucking Way on the other. 

By the end of their circle around the zoo, they’ve seen almost everything, and certainly everything that Bronx is interested in seeing. He looks exhausted, dragging his feet a little, and Pete offers him a piggy back ride to the car.

“Can’t Mikey give me one?”  
“You don’t want me to give you one?”  
“Mikey is taller.”  
“Touché,” Mikey says, with the hint of a grin on his lips.  
“I dunno, B.” He gives Mikey a look. “Not everyone is up for lugging a human cub around the zoo, you know.”

“No, it’s cool. I’m used to hauling Bandit around, and I’m pretty sure she’s rougher with me than you’ll be.”

Pete is almost as pleased as Bronx looks when Mikey gets down on his hands and knees and they set themselves up, Bronx wrapping his hands around Mikey’s neck.

“Mikey needs to be able to breathe, buddy. Careful.” 

But Bronx is careful and so is Mikey, and they walk with ease through the rest of the zoo, and out through the turnstiles to the parking lot.

They say goodbye at Mikey's car, Bronx giving Mikey a big hug, and Pete giving him a similar one. This time they don’t make plans to meet again, but Pete thinks that’s fine, because it feels like it will be easier to just call Mikey up to hang out after their recent time together anyway. 

 

*

Hanging out with Mikey in public, considering they are _officially friends_ now, is pretty cool, because most of the time they hung out in the past was secret unless they were amongst their close friends. It was unsaid at the start that they would keep it quiet. Public same-sex relationships were so rare within larger bands on the scene, and then it became something that they _wanted_ to keep to themselves. Both bands were becoming bigger and more successful by the week, with people wanting to know about Pete and who he was fucking, and it made him want to hold on to any secret thing he could keep as his own. 

There was a little thrill to their secrecy, like the time when they kissed covertly behind the My Chem bus early in the morning, and Pete’s heart jumped right into his throat when they heard a sound that made them both startle and pull apart. Mikey’s eyes were wide and Pete’s pulse thumped so hard, and it turned out to be a fucking bird, skipping across the loose pebbles in the parking lot. They laughed and Pete pulled Mikey back against him, but their kissing only lasted for another minute or so, full of giggles, and then parting ways for Pete to go find his band.

They became masters at finding dark corners backstage. Luckily Mikey was skinny and Pete was a little dude – though nothing has really changed there – and they could squeeze into smaller spaces than some people. Not that they really needed to take up much space whenever they made out backstage; Pete plastered himself to Mikey’s chest, their lips locked, or Pete’s mouth on Mikey’s jaw. 

Just once – and only once – Pete gave Mikey a handjob backstage in a badly lit alcove. It was a little corner that seemed to be barely used, and they stood there for at least ten minutes just talking (and flirting) before there was any bodily contact at all. But once it started, it was fast and sweaty, and Pete fitted his lips to Mikey’s neck and should have gotten ninja bonus points for undoing Mikey’s belt and button one-handed without making a single fucking sound.

Mikey, should by all rights, have given Pete a stern talking to, because his hair screamed _sex hair_ afterwards from Pete threading his fingers through it, sticking out at fifteen different angles and not at all like his usually carefully structured scene style. But then again, Mikey got a mind-blowing orgasm in a dark corner and Pete didn’t ask for anything in return so it wasn’t all bad. Mikey’s set was already done, or Pete wouldn’t have given him a handie – the rest of Mikey’s band would kill Pete if Mikey was all orgasm-stupid on stage – but Pete still had to play, and he played his whole set with the biggest grin on his face, thinking about Mikey and knowing that he was watching from sidestage.

While Pete’s hand was working furiously in Mikey’s jeans, and Mikey’s head was thrown back, panting into the air, Pete briefly thought _maybe it would be better if we were caught, maybe I wouldn’t have to decide if someone found us together and it was all out in the open, the choice would be easier if it was taken away from us._

But he never voiced it, not knowing if Mikey wanted everything out for all to see, and he didn’t even know if he wanted it. He did know that both of their record companies and management would freak the fuck out and it would cause complete chaos for them though, so he kept his mouth shut.

Pete never said _I Love You_ , never said the exact words, but he was almost sure that Mikey knew. He was nearly sure that Mikey felt it back too, because there was something in the way he held Pete’s gaze, and something different in the way he kissed, but he never said it either. Pete was okay with that, it was just another one of their secret club things.

Even wandering around the parking lots, they did their best to not get spotted together and they absolutely refused to have any pictures taken together. 

Pete knows that some people suspected it, though. There were rumours and correctly deciphered blog posts, and when Pete wrote lyrics trying to make sense of the break-up, those were easily seen through, too. Pete has always been the kind of boy who wears his heart on his sleeve when he’s in love, and it works the same way when he’s in pain, so he wasn’t surprised that people put two and two together. 

Writing lyrics about Mikey worked in a many-faceted way; Pete got to process and vent and spill his broken heart out using ink and paper, and sometimes that felt like a therapy session. Somehow when Patrick sang Pete’s words, Pete felt like maybe his sentiments of love and anguish were being communicated to Mikey, without ever having to say them himself. Pete also knew from using lyrics to get over past relationships how cathartic it felt to have a thousand kids sing them back, and every time the he heard them, the scars on his heart faded just that little bit more.

Things are different now, _he’s_ different now. His relationship with Mikey is uncomplicated; they’re just hanging out. Even if Pete gets little pangs of _something_ when he looks at Mikey, and yes, even if Pete has had some inappropriate thoughts about him, they feel like friends. Pete’s not going to let himself fuck this up even if he has to button his lip on his feelings forever.

*

Pete takes a bath. It’s a sure fire way to relax him, even if it’s only a small amount, and if he relaxes then maybe he can sleep. He runs the water, throws in a bath bomb, a really awesome one that turns the water multi-coloured – and he can never understand why guys are afraid of using stuff like this, it makes his bath a zillion times nicer. 

He’s felt a little horny today, like a low grade hum in the background. It’s nothing too strong, but he noticed attractive people in the gym more than usual – and one really hot dude wandering around naked in the dressing room afterwards, even if he knows it’s bad form to actually look. He hasn’t touched himself in days, not since the last time he came thinking of Mikey, sure that he couldn’t trust himself to use the rest of his spankbank arsenal instead.

Mikey has been in his head a little bit today though, after they spent most of the morning texting back and forth over nothing. So of course, like the last time Pete was horny and alone, he thinks of Mikey, and he closes his eyes and remembers them being intimate together. His hand goes to his dick and he just holds it. He knows he’s a creepy, creepy fucker, and if anyone knew this was happening he’d die of shame – and Pete doesn’t really suffer from shame too often so that’s saying something – but he thinks of Mikey spread out in a bunk for him and really doesn’t care.

After they got naked together that first time, Pete more or less let go of a large handful of his internalised homophobia. He wasn’t shouting it from the rooftops that he was into Mikey, but there were a few blog posts where he tried to figure it out, which at the time he thought were completely stealthy. Mostly, it made him embrace his desire to be with Mikey, and to _do things_. 

Pete surprised Mikey late one morning. He knew the My Chem bus was empty, he’d seen everyone leave. Not that he was stalking of anything, really, he just _noticed._

Mikey lead him back to his bunk because that’s where they hung out even when there was no one else around. Pete was a little cautious of Gerard because he and Mikey were so close and Pete sometimes felt like he was stealing Mikey away from him, even if it was only for short periods of time.

When they were in Mikey’s bunk and the curtain was safely closed over, Pete pushed Mikey onto his back and began to undo his pants.

“Pete?”  
“So, like, I’ve obviously never tried this before, but I’ve watched a ton of porn,” he said, and that probably sounded different out loud than he intended it to.  
“Pete-”  
“And girls do it, right? People do it all the time. I mean, it can’t be that hard.”  
“Pete. What the-“  
“I wanna blow you.”  
“Oh. Okay.”

“I can? Awesome.” Pete wasn’t particularly surprised, he’d never known many guys who’d turn down a blowjob from someone that they’re seeing, even if he and Mikey were not really seeing each other at that point. Or were they? He wasn’t fully sure of the exact name for it, but he was sure he wanted to blow Mikey and that was enough for him.

Lying in the bath, once Pete starts think about going down on Mikey, he goes from vaguely horny to raging-hard-on pretty quickly. He fists his dick a couple of times and then just holds on again, though really after the last time he jerked off to thoughts of Mikey, he knows he’s going to do this.

“I have watched porn, though,” Pete had said. “For tips. And I’ve gotten blow jobs from girls. I sort of know what to do, or I hope I do. I’ve never gotten one from a dude, obviously, but I assume it’s the same thing.”  
“It is.” Oh. Pete didn’t know Mikey had gotten a blowjob from another guy before. But whatever, his was totally going to be better.

In Pete’s head, he had previously built it up to be this really gross thing, licking another guy’s junk. The more he thought about it though, the hotter it sounded, and when it came down to it, it was a very strange but incredible experience. 

He’d never actually been that up-close to a dick before, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t kiss anywhere else in the area, no nuzzling or biting or stroking or touching, he was too nervous and excited by the cock that was mere inches from his mouth. 

Pete took hold of Mikey’s dick around the base and looked back up at Mikey. Mikey was watching intently, both hands resting on his chest, and Pete grinned before ducking his head down. The first lick was slow and careful, just saying hello and trying it out. Mikey tasted salty and musky, and nowhere near as gross as Pete was expecting considering he was _licking a dick!_ He looked up again, and Mikey was still watching, but his eyes were lidded now and he had pink in his cheeks. Pete took that as a good sign and went for it again.

There’s no further hesitation from Pete now, he gives himself over to the thought that he’s a creepy fuck to be doing this and just goes with it, sliding his hand over his cock. He tightens his grip when he thinks of Mikey’s thighs tensing and trembling under him, and his hips twitch up. He sucks two of his fingers into his mouth, imagining them to be Mikey’s dick, and while it’s nowhere near the same shape or size, it’s enough of a sense memory to make Pete moan around them, and fuck his fist harder.

Back in that bunk, Pete tried a little of everything, experimenting, and trying to do the things that he knew felt good when he got sucked off. Pete closed his whole mouth over the head of Mikey’s dick, and moved his hand too. Mikey moaned, so Pete sucked this time, lightly and then a little harder. He went down all the way until his nose hit the tangle of pubic hair, and then dragged his tongue on the underside on the way up. He tried just sucking on the head and jacking the shaft. He played with Mikey’s balls while swirling his tongue around the crown. While he couldn’t deepthroat without gagging, he got the rest of it okay according to Mikey’s appreciative moans. Eventually he just hollowed his cheeks and sucked as hard as he could and Mikey writhed and moaned and knotted his fingers into Pete’s hair.

Pete’s jaw ached, coordination was tough with so many things to think about, and there was about a gallon of saliva all over Mikey, and okay, there’s a reason it’s called a blow _job;_ it was fucking hard work. But soon Mikey tapped him on the shoulder, and Pete pulled off, thinking swallowing on his first try was probably a little too much. He finished Mikey by hand until he was spent, panting and murmuring, and Mikey was always so gorgeous like that.

Right now in his bath, Pete doesn’t even make it through thinking about how amazing it felt when Mikey had reciprocated, pulling Pete’s skinny jeans all the way off and pulling his underwear down to mid-thigh. He had smirked at Pete as he took hold of Pete’s cock and stroked him before sinking down. 

No, Pete doesn’t make it all the way through remembering the hot, tight feeling of Mikey’s mouth, or how glorious it felt to know _his_ dick was in _Mikey’s_ mouth, or how red and used Mikey’s lips looked, because he comes all over hand, grunting and swearing out loud in his empty bathroom. He lies there for a few minutes, hand on his softening dick and his eyes still closed. 

He knows he shouldn’t have done that. That’s the second time he’s pleasured himself over old memories, and it doesn’t seem fair to be so casual with Mikey and still feel so much for him. 

Afterwards, Mikey and Pete had cuddled so close, and Pete really wishes he had someone to cuddle with right now.

“That was my first time giving head to a guy,” Mikey confessed, wrapping his arm around Pete’s waist. Pete put his head on Mikey’s chest and listened to the beat of his heart.  
“Wait, you got a blowjob from a dude, but you didn’t give one back? That’s terrible, Mikes,” Pete teased.  
“I know,” Mikey grinned. “But like I said, I usually only hook up with boys when I’m drunk, and I didn’t really care, and neither did he actually. I gave him a handjob. It was fine.”  
“I would have been pissed to have missed out on a Mikey Way blowjob,” Pete said.  
“You’re the only one, so you didn’t miss anything, Pete.” And Pete just cuddled closer.

Pete rinses his hand in his multi-coloured bath water, which is now looking a little murky, and then gets out of the bath. He pulls a towel around his waist and pointedly does not look in the mirror, not really wanting to look himself in the eye right now.

He goes to sit on his bed before he dresses and Bear is curled up at the foot of it, all doe eyed, and he whimpers softly when Pete sits down. Pete is certain that Bear knows exactly what just went down in the bathroom, he’s sure his dog is psychic.

“Yeah, I know, dog,” he says to Bear. “I know you’re judging me, I’m judging myself.”

*

A week later, and Pete is bored. Bronx is with Ashlee and he has absolutely no DCD2 things to do, not even homework, or anything else for that matter. There’s an event on right this second that his agent had told him about. He’d declined, not in the humour, but he’s so bored this evening that maybe he should actually have gone.

He decides to send a text to Mikey. It’s fine, he reminds himself, it’s just texting. _Hey. Wht u up to?_

Mikey’s reply comes surprisingly quickly. _Nothin. Just hangin out._

_Same. BX went back to Ash earlier. The house always feels quiet w/o him ☹_

_I guess thats hard. Nothing to do?_

_Nope. Wsh I’d stolen a tiger cub frm the zoo to entertain me._

_Those things would eat your dog! Watch a movie?_

_Its boring on my own_. He looks down at Bear. “I mean I’m the only human here, and you don’t talk back, so don’t get upset.” 

There’s a little pause in texting, and then Mikey replies. _I’ll watch with you._

_Its too late to come ovr_.Pete thinks that’s probably a bad idea anyway when his mind flashes through the possibilities of him and Mikey snuggling on the couch and thoughts that if it got too late to drive home that Mikey might have to stay. They might be hanging out as friends, but Pete is not sure he’s ready for platonic sleepovers just yet.

_Pick a movie and we can Netflix it. Ill call you when I hav popcorn made._

That’s the most perfect idea Pete has heard in weeks. He scans through Netflix, down through his recommended titles, and that doesn’t help him at all because most of them are kid’s movies from watching stuff with Bronx. He gives up, heading to the kitchen and grabbing a can of soda and a bag of chips even if he probably won’t eat them. Bear gets up from his dog bed and follows him out so Pete fetches him a dog treat and checks his water bowl is still full.

By the time he’s sitting back down on the sofa his phone is already ringing and he has no movie picked.

“Hey. I didn’t pick a movie yet. Do you hate me?”  
“Completely. I’m hanging up.”  
“You pick one.”  
“I don’t have a clue, I was hoping you would. What are you in the mood for?”

Pete flirts with most of his friends, and he almost says he’s in the mood for romance, but he can’t; it’s Mikey. “Horror? Sci-fi? You want something you’ve already seen?”

“Yeah, why not. Go for a classic.”

Pete thinks and thinks, and smiles because why didn’t he think of this already? “Star Wars? I’ve never seen it with you.”

“Perfect.”  
“Great. I’d ask if you have it, but I already know that you do.”  
“Okay. Gimme a minute. Gotta set it up.”  
“Me too. I’m putting you on speaker.”

Pete knows where his copy of Star Wars is. He hasn’t watched this with Bronx yet, he’s been saving it for when he’s older, but Pete thinks it might be time soon. 

He pulls it out, and calls in the direction of his phone, “I’m not even asking which one you’re putting on.”  
“Episode IV. Duh.”

Pete grins. He knew that. “That’s the correct answer, Mikeyway.”

Pete settles down as the movie starts, and their movies are not quite in synch so it takes a bit of fiddling around pausing and playing to get them to the same spot, and they both turn the sound down to barely audible, but once they get it right, it’s wonderful.

They’ve never watched it together, but it doesn’t matter, because within seconds they’re both reciting the opening dialogue as the words float off into the distance. Some of the lines they quote, either together or they take turns. Pete keeps Mikey on speaker, his phone on the arm rest on one side of him, and Bear snoring softly on the other. 

“’I’m getting too old for this sort of thing,’ is something I’ve started saying more these days,” Pete grins towards the phone. And it’s true, as he’s gotten older, and especially since he has Bronx now there’s plenty of things that he would have done that just don’t seem as important anymore.  
“Yeah, me too. And it gets more relevant all the time.”

“Fuck, I still want a Land Speeder,” Pete gushes.  
“Not the Millennium Falcon?”

“Of course I do!” Pete says, disgusted. That’s a given. “But maybe a Speeder is more realistic. What’s the point of being a spoilt rockstar if I can’t have a Speeder? Getting through LA traffic would be a cinch.”

Mikey laughs. “I’d like a Wookie.”  
“Yeah, that’d be cool. Though I think my housekeeper would quit. Between Bear and Bronx she has her work cut out for her, and it’s hardly like I’m a neat-freak. Adding a Wookie to the house would be the final straw.” Bear gives a little whimper at hearing his name, and Pete smiles and blows him a kiss. 

“Yeah when I was a kid I thought it would be cool to be a Wookie.”  
“Dude, I know. But after straightening just my fucking bangs for so long-“  
“Right? Imagine having to straighten your entire body.”  
“No fucking way.”

Pete is all fired up when they approach Obi-wan’s death at the hands of Darth Vader. "I can't wait to watch this with Bronx someday.”  
“I’m kinda jealous of your kid, or anyone who hasn’t seen it. I mean, they get to see it for the first time.”  
“It will be a special day.”  
“What if he doesn’t like it?”

Pete gasps audibly, and he’d be pissed at Mikey if he couldn’t hear the teasing in his voice. “Don’t even joke. I’ll have to put him up for adoption. Or get a paternity test done.”

Mikey laughs and it sounds musical and wonderful to Pete.

"What would you use the force for?"  
“See, I’d probably end up using it for evil.”  
“You’d wind up on the dark side.”  
“I wouldn’t kill people, I’m not that bad,” Pete protests, “But imagine how many tiny annoying things you could do to people. Rude person on the street? Oops, I made your pants fall down using the force. Paparazzi tailing you? Oops, I made you spill your coffee down your crotch so it looks like you pissed your pants.”

“Oh, that’s good. Yeah, I might do that too. Imagine skipping queues at the airport, or if you didn’t want to do an interview, you could just use the force and convince them you totally did the interview already. I wonder if that’s bad enough for the dark side.”  
“I guess that’s more mischief that evil, but we’d probably have to check with George Lucas.”

"I think it's funny how Obi-wan tells Luke to trust his instincts,” Pete points out when the movie is reaching its climax. “When his instincts told him he’s got the hots for his sister.”  
“Man, I know.”

When the credits are rolling, it’s not too late to start the next one, but they both have exactly the same boxset and Pete suggests they watch the extras like deleted scenes and a documentary. It’s nothing they both haven’t watched before, but Pete really loves that he’s getting to watch them with Mikey.

By the end of those, and tons of shared nerdy facts and trivia, it really is too late to watch the next one because Pete has to be up early tomorrow, and he’s been yawning for ages already.

“Okay, I should probably sign off,” he says, even though he’s pretty sad to do so. “I’ve a personal trainer appointment tomorrow and he’s going to kick my ass anyway, but worse if I’ve had no sleep.”  
“Power through.”  
“No, he’s cruel. I mean, I pay him to be cruel to me, but still. You shouldn’t be encouraging me.”  
“Come on,” Mikey teases.  
“Which side are you on?” Pete says, and he can’t help the goofy grin on his face. “Help me, Mikey Way, you’re my only hope.”

“Okay, bail on me. I can take it,” Mikey says, and Pete can hear the smile coming through on the line. “I’m going to flip a coin over whether I watch the rest on my own.”  
“Save them. We can do them another night.”  
There’s a little pause from Mikey, but then he just says, “Okay. Deal.”  
“Night, Mikey.”  
“G’night.”

Pete curls up in bed with Bear beside him and despite sleeping alone like he has done every night for the last ever, he feels content.

 

*

Pete and Gabe meet whenever Gabe is in LA, and today they’re grabbing coffee. He and Gabe have had all sorts of intimate conversations in public before, now masters at sharing inappropriate information stealthily. Pete doesn’t think too hard before mentioning that he and Mikey have been meeting up recently, because he knows Gabe will probably have a way of finding out anyway. 

“Wait. You met Mikey Way? Mikey Way from Jersey? Mikey Way who has an entire album of broken love songs written about him? Mikey Way from My Chem?”

Pete gives him a look that he hopes reads as _when you’re done being a jerk I will talk to you_. He sips his frozen coffee and waits, because Gabe isn’t finished.

“Mikey Way you used to sleep with? Mikey Way you made out with at your thirtieth birthday – oh, I know about that by the way. Mikey Way the cute, nerdy bassist? Mikey Way with the tiny, perfect ass and gorgeous cheekbones? There must be more than one Mikey Way, because, Pete, I am certain one of you would have told me if you guys were fucking again.”

“Shh. We’re not fucking.” Even if they’re pros at having stealthy conversations in public, it’s not the sort of information he wants anyone overhearing.  
“You’re not?”  
“We’re just hanging out together.”  
“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Gabe asks sceptically.

“I’m serious dude. It’s fine.”  
“Is it though? You two were so hung up on each other. Two boys with fucking broken hearts for so long.” And that’s news to Pete because Mikey did the breaking up, and he was quick to get engaged afterwards. But it’s irrelevant.

“We just, like, got coffee, and he came to the zoo with me and Bronx.”  
“Introducing him to your kid. Sounds serious.”

Pete’s not sure if Gabe is teasing or not, but he’s starting to feel a little defensive anyway. 

“It’s not like that.”  
“What is it like? Pete, please tell me.”

Pete’s not sure what it’s like. There’s been a few little moments between him and Mikey that he could read into, but he’s choosing not to because he doesn’t want to fuck it up and ruin the beginning of them being friends again.

“I dunno. It’s just hanging out. It’s nice.” He shrugs and hopes that Gabe will drop it and accept that they can be friends.  
“So you don’t feel anything for him?”

Pete takes a sip of his coffee, and then takes another one hoping to buy himself an extra second or two to think about it. He feels _something_ , but he doesn’t want to admit it.

“You do! You’re so into him” Gabe says almost triumphant, and it’s louder than Pete would like, because it makes a couple at the next table look over.

“Shh. For fuck’s sake shh,” Pete hisses.  
“Sorry. But you are into him,” Gabe says, thankfully a lot quieter this time.  
“Can we take a walk before you say anything else?”

Pete picks up his coffee and they head out to the street in the direction of Pete’s car.

“You know if you still have feelings for him it’s eventually going to fuck everything up?”

Pete makes a noncommittal noise and sucks on his straw, trying to get the last bit of sugary goodness from the bottom. His diet has been mostly trash this week, which is not the worst thing. It sort of negates paying a fortune for a personal trainer to get him into shape, though, only to eat like an unsupervised kid at a birthday party and undo all his own hard work. Then again, Pete has a lot of down time, and no one in particular is looking at his body, scrutinising it, so he doesn’t care. He’s still sucking on his straw and he’s supposed to be thinking of an answer for Gabe and not thinking of his physique – and he’s sure his therapist would tell him that that’s a classic avoidance technique right there – but he comes up empty.

“I’m hoping I’ll just get over it,” he says finally. “It’s possible. I once had a crush on Patrick and it went away completely.”  
“Because you fell for other people; Jeanae, Mikey, Ashlee. You need to figure out if you want to risk telling him-“  
“No.”  
“Then you have to either stop being friends, or move on and actually fall in love again. Or both.”  
“I want to be friends with him even if I have feelings for him, though.”

Gabe wraps his arm around Pete’s shoulder as they walk. “I know, Wentz. Just be careful,” he says, echoing Patrick’s words and the words that Pete has told himself so many times over the last weeks. He’s trying to be careful, but that’s always been difficult when Mikey’s involved.

*

Patrick is recording some things, because he’s always doing something. He probably breaks out in a rash if he isn’t.

Pete pops by the studio with Bronx in tow, and Bronx adores Patrick so he spins in one of the studio chairs and recites all the things he’s been up to with Pete over the last few weeks while Patrick listens intently.

“You went to the zoo? That’s awesome. With your mom?”  
“No, with daddy. Daddy’s friend came too.”  
“Oh yeah? Which friend? Gabe?” And that would be a normal assumption because Gabe is great with Bronx, and Bronx loves Gabe to bits.  
“Nope. Mikey. Daddy said he knows him from a long time ago.”

Patrick glances at Pete as he says, “He does, huh?” Pete’s eyes dart away because he knows that Patrick is trying to psychically communicate _what the actual fuck?_ How did Pete forget that kids have no filter and will always find a way to drop their parents in the most amount of shit possible?

“Yep. He’s really tall, though not as tall as Gabe or Travie. Taller than daddy, though. Mikey’s pretty fun. He gave me a piggy back.”  
“Yeah,” Pete says, trying to ignore Patrick’s now permanently raised eyebrow. “We had fun, didn’t we little man?”  
“Yep,” Bronx says, not looking at either of them, and looking like he’d like to press every single one of the buttons on the control panel. “Daddy wants to be a koala so he can be good at cuddling, but he’s okay at cuddling already. And eating eucalyptus would be silly.”

“Yeah, eucalyptus is boring. I was always shitty at being a vegetarian, remember?”  
“Dollar in the jar, Daddy,” Bronx says, before Patrick can answer.  
“Sorry.”  
“I’d rather be a lion or a tiger,” Bronx says, without flinching, so used to Pete turning the air blue with his language.

“I’m with you, Bronx. Koalas seem a little silly, like maybe they don’t think things through all the time.” Patrick shoots daggers at Pete over Bronx’s oblivious head. “Maybe your Dad should be something a bit cleverer.”

It’s an obvious dig at Pete, though Pete knows it’s more about Patrick trying to process it all without any warning than much else. Pete decides it’s time they get going before Bronx gives away the rest of his secrets, like the fact that he let Bronx stay up late and have ice cream for dinner yesterday, or maybe Pete’s ATM pin code.

“Well, we have Lego building planned out for when we get home, so we might be off now.”

Patrick catches Pete’s eye, and he knows that Patrick wants a word before they leave.

“Hey, B. Do you want to sit in Patrick’s chair and wear his headphones? You can’t touch any of these dials, okay. But you can press any of these buttons. I just have to talk to  
Patrick for a second.” The panel is switched off so it won’t matter, but Pete still doesn’t want any of Patrick’s settings to get fucked up, especially since Pete is about to get an earful as it is.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Patrick asks.  
“Not really, but so far it’s going okay.”

“Are you meeting up with him again?”  
“I dunno. Probably. Actually more than probably. We said we might have a movie night. We had one already.”  
“He was in your house?”  
“No,” Pete says, and he knew that Patrick wouldn’t let that one slide. “We did it on the phone.”

“Did it?” Patrick asks and makes a face, looking like he’s already changing his mind about wanting to know that answer.  
“Watched a movie. Like he had it on and I had it on and we called each other and talked through it. Episode IV. It was fun. And innocent,” he adds, just to be clear. “He’s not a bad guy, you know.”  
“Dude, I know. I like Mikey, he’s a cool guy. But you two are—you know.”  
“I know.”

*

Pete and Mikey discuss a repeat movie night to watch the remaining two parts of the trilogy. Pete has been super excited, but he doesn’t take into consideration that Mikey will suggest they do it in person this time.

Pete agrees, of course, because he wants to hang out with Mikey, even if it’s in his house and even if he’s very cautious about the whole thing. It feels a lot more intimate than all of their other non-dates.

Of course, his anxiety goes into overdrive as soon as he drops Bronx off with Ashlee, and he spends too long in the supermarket trying to pick up suitable movie snacks, and then too long trying to figure out if his house looks okay. He has to keep reminding himself that it’s Mikey, and Mikey won’t care.

Pete forgets his nerves as soon as Mikey arrives over. They sit on the couch, and it’s so easy and relaxed. 

Bear seems to be quite taken with Mikey, bringing one of his disgusting well-chewed dog toys to show him, and then sitting for part of the movie pushed up against his thigh. Pete’s not jealous of his dog, he’s not. 

The dog is the only thing stopping them from sitting right beside each other, and when Bear is not nestled against Mikey, he has his head in Pete’s lap. Pete secretly wishes it was Mikey’s head there instead, just like they used to do.

They watch Episode V, and Mikey’s in good humour, mostly laughing and he chats along with Pete, quoting and joking and being his usual self, but Pete notices something ever so slightly off about him every now and then, like he’s a little quieter sometimes.

“Wouldn’t it be awesome to have your own Yoda?” Pete asks wistfully. “I mean, a little old wise dude to give guidance would be pretty amazing.”  
“I could count Gee as my Yoda, he sure speaks in riddles. He’s usually wise. Doesn’t always make too much sense though.”  
“I’ll take Patrick as mine, then. He like, tries steer me on the right path.” Pete tries not to think about Patrick’s warning regarding hanging out with Mikey. “He’s always looking out for me. Not sure how good he is with a Lightsaber though.”

“Probably wouldn’t pick Gabe as my Yoda.”  
Pete laughs hard. “Nope. He’d make an awesome sidekick though; loyal and cuddly and fucking tall. He can be a Wookie.”  
“Perfect.”

Pete reaches for the bowl of popcorn that they’ve been munching on and grabs a handful, spilling a few down his chest. Mikey eyes him as he picks up the scattered few that have escaped, and Pete throws him a grin while shoving the last kernels into his already full mouth. Bear sniffs at the one he’s left abandoned in his lap and then promptly eats it before Pete can get it.

Mikey reaches for another soda, and it’s almost out of reach so he has to stretch a little. Pete scoffs.

“Dude, we need to use the force.”  
“No stretching?”  
“I’d be a fucking lazy asshole if I had the force, though. I’d never move.”  
“You would. And at least you go to the gym.”  
“It’s good for endorphins,” Pete protests. And it’s true; a shitty day can usually be made better by lifting heavy things or knocking seven shades of shit out of a punch bag.  
“And you look good,” Mikey offers.

Pete is sure he blushes faintly in the dim light at hearing Mikey’s words, his _praise _, but he turns his attention back the movie and just says, “Thanks, dude. I try. The goal is to not end up looking like Jabba.” From the corner of his eye, Pete sees Mikey’s gaze travel briefly the length of his body, and then his focus is back to the screen, as Han is frozen in carbonite.__

__Bear jumps down from the couch before they begin Episode VI, heading off to the kitchen, and then there’s no obstacles between them. Pete thinks Mikey’s body language shifts a little, but he can’t be sure._ _

__Talk of the new Star Wars movies comes up between them, but just to say how much they’re both looking forward to it, if only to see what the fuck else George Lucas is going to do with the story._ _

__“Oh fuck, we should do Disneyland someday,” Pete says, and he hasn’t been in quite some time, either with Bronx or at all. The Star Wars stuff there sounds awesome. “We said once upon a time that we should go. We should do it.”_ _

__It’s an offhand remark on Pete’s behalf, just an out-loud thought really, but Mikey takes a long second to answer. “Maybe.”_ _

__“We can do the Star Wars prequels too someday, too. Just to complete them. We could start after sushi next week if you want?”_ _

__“Pete,” Mikey says quietly. It’s almost a question, and Pete thinks he looks nervous and maybe even a little stricken. “Pete, I don’t know if I can go next week.”_ _

__Pete tries not to let his heart sink all the way to the floor. It’s just supposed to be sushi, and Pete can eat sushi whenever he likes, so he shouldn’t be that disappointed. He knows it has everything to do with not getting more Mikey-time, though. “How come? You want to do it a different day?”_ _

__“I don’t know if I can do it a different day either.”  
“What do you mean? Is something wrong?”_ _

__Mikey is quiet for what feels like a long time. He shifts a few times, just moving his arms or crossing his legs and uncrossing them. Finally he’s sitting still, but he looks like he’s hunched over himself a little. “I can’t do this anymore,” he says simply.  
“Do what?”  
“This. Us. Hanging out like it’s no big deal.” 

__Pete stills, tenses, and he feels suddenly sick. “Wait. What? Why?”_ _

__“It’s like we’re pretending nothing happened between us. Before. I know it was a long time ago, but-- I don’t think I can."  
“Too weird, huh?”  
“Too hard.” Mikey’s voice is small, low and so sad. 

__“Too hard to be friends? I thought we were doing okay?” Pete has that sinking feeling again, deeper this time, like he might sink all the way through the floor and come out on the other side of the planet._ _

__“It’s not that, Pete.” Mikey is silent again for another long minute and he looks like he’s fighting himself, hunching over more, turning into himself. When he speaks, his body is angled away, but he looks directly at Pete, and his voice is fierce. “We had a shitty break up. You wrote fucking love songs that I know are about me. It’s hard to pretend that never happened. And now you want to go to Disneyland like we planned years ago _when we were together._ We’re making plans like nothing ever happened, like there’s nothing between us. I can’t -- I’m still in fucking _love_ with you. I can’t be friends. I tried. I really wanted it. I can’t.” _ _

__Suddenly the room falls silent and all Pete can hear is the white noise of his brain. He doesn’t feel like he’s sinking anymore, he feels like he’s floating, or maybe spinning._ _

__“What?”  
“I can’t,” Mikey repeats, the ferocity from before deflated and replaced by sadness. He shakes his head and gets off the couch, heading quickly to leave the room. Pete bounds after him._ _

__“What the fucking fuck did you just say?” He almost spits it, incredulous that those words could possibly have left Mikey’s lips._ _

__Mikey turns around, but he looks reluctant to do so. “Don’t make me say it again.”_ _

__“I’ll say it and you nod if I’m right. I really need to know if my meds are the wrong dose, or if that was a really bad burrito I had earlier. I need to know I didn’t imagine it.” He hesitates. “Did you say you love me?”_ _

__Mikey nods very slowly. He looks like he’s about to bolt, so Pete makes a move for his hand. He misses and gets Mikey’s wrist, but it’s close enough. Even if Mikey freaks out afterwards, Pete just needs him to stay long enough to hear this._ _

__“You love me,” Pete says, and his brain can’t quite compute it._ _

__“Please don’t say it again, Pete.” Mikey rubs at his forehead with his free hand, and Pete thinks he’s subconsciously trying to hide. Pete’s therapist has told him off for doing the exact same thing._ _

__Pete fixes his grip so that he’s got most of Mikey’s hand in his, and grabs the other one for good measure._ _

__“I _have_ to say it again. Mikes, I’ve been in love with you for so fucking long you have no idea. It went away a bit, a lot actually, when I was with Ash. I did love her, I wasn’t just with her as a consolation, but I kind of always had a candle for you. Yes, I wrote about you because that’s what I do, and _god_ that helped a lot. I don’t think all of this, this hanging out with you is nothing. I’ve been happier these last few weeks than in a long time.”_ _

__Mikey’s face breaks into a smile. It’s small, but it’s there. “For real?”_ _

__“For real. During coffee and the zoo and sushi and whatever, I’ve been fighting myself and beating myself up. We were starting to be friends again and I just-- I figured I could just ignore it. If I ignored it all you could still be in my life. I think I probably could have kept it up, too. But…” He trails off when Mikey’s lips twitch further into a grin. “But that’s all a bit null and void if you said what you said and I didn’t imagine it, or if this isn’t some hilarious, disturbing prank being filmed for a reality show.”_ _

__“No reality show.”  
“Good.”_ _

__Mikey takes a step forward, and twists his hands so that their fingers are linked. Pete can feel something fizzing between them, and it only increases when Mikey’s gaze drops to Pete’s mouth. Mikey looks as though he’s thinking, his eyes intense and dark, and the next thing Pete knows, Mikey’s not looking at Pete’s mouth anymore, he’s kissing it._ _

__It’s a quick little peck, a test kiss maybe. Maybe Mikey’s no more certain about this than Pete is, but it doesn’t seem to matter, because after the first peck, there’s another, and another. Then one longer, softer _real_ kiss, where neither of them breathe for a long moment, just holding it all in._ _

__Then there's Mikey’s tongue; glorious, hot, wet tongue, sliding so deliciously into Pete’s mouth. Pete remembers this vividly, and he can almost get the smell of backstage and stale bunks and parking lots that used to go with most of these kisses. It's been so long, so many things have happened for both of them, and they have both changed so much over the years, but the kiss is so familiar._ _

__Pete has to push up onto his toes to get a better angle, but when he tilts his head their mouths fit closer together, and he can push his tongue deeper into Mikey’s mouth. _God,_ Pete has missed this. He feels Mikey’s breath trip, and Pete’s heart is racing so fast, he still can’t believe this is happening._ _

__He can’t balance on his tippy toes for long, and he ends up leaning back on his heels to keep from falling. Mikey just goes with him, mouth still sealed to Pete’s, and Pete is so glad, because he can’t bear to stop kissing Mikey. Mikey’s hands find Pete’s hips, palms open against Pete’s shirt. Then they tighten into the fabric, and Pete lets himself be pulled gently forward until their bodies are an inch apart._ _

__When Pete eventually has to breathe, he does pull back, though he’s already mourning the loss of Mikey’s lips on his. They’re still close enough that the tips of their noses touch and Pete’s hands are still cradling Mikey’s jaw._ _

__“Fuck,” Mikey whispers.  
“I know.” Pete’s surprised by how ragged his own voice is, sounding like he’s been smoking in the lounge with Joe for a whole night.  
“Is it weird if we do that again?” 

__Pete just shakes his head and leans in again, capturing Mikey’s lips and sucking in a breath through his nose as he does. He exhales a half-moan, half-sigh into Mikey’s mouth, which makes Mikey clench one hand tighter in Pete’s shirt while the other slides up into the short hair at the back of Pete’s neck._ _

__When they break apart this time, Pete leads them back to the sofa to sit. It’s all happening so quickly and he needs to take a second to centre himself again, even if this is the best evening ever, ever, ever._ _

__Mikey speaks before Pete gets the chance to say anything, and Pete holds his breath again without even meaning to._ _

__"I never wanted to break up, you know. It was just too hard the way it was going on. Half-hearting it was never gonna cut it for me," he pauses, looking down at Pete's hand in his, before adding, "Not with you.” He looks back up at Pete through his lashes. "It had to be all or nothing. Never knowing when I would see you next was killing me. I knew you wouldn't end it so I had to." He pauses again. "I fucked up.”_ _

___Fuck._ Mikey had felt the same way as Pete had. But it had ended up being the right thing to do in the long run, right? Pete had always felt something for Mikey, through every relationship he’d had since then. He’d written about him, and not just the songs and not-so-stealthy blog entries that the fangirls had so cleverly decoded. He’d written page upon page upon page of garbled up nonsense and beautifully worded prose, all for Mikey. Pete had mostly moved on, after a while at least, though he had thought about Mikey often. He fell in love with Ashlee and when they had Bronx, he was ecstatic. Mikey had moved on too, and although it had been like a knife to the gut to hear that Mikey and Alicia were engaged, above all else, Pete was happy if Mikey was happy. _ _

__Spending so much wonderful time with Mikey lately, and now hearing Mikey say all of that has brought it all rushing back. Their meet-ups have almost felt like dates, building from a quick chat to an all-out date of movie and a pizza. Even if as far as Pete was concerned the dates were going nowhere, he wouldn’t have traded them for anything. Pete squeezes Mikey’s fingers, hoping it’s a tiny comfort after those difficult words._ _

__"Hey, no. You didn't fuck up Mikes, I think we had to end it then, even though I didn't want to either. It never would have worked the way it was no matter how hard we had tried. We would have ended up hating each other. Or giving up music. Fuck, it could have been both. It was too crazy. We were young and stupid.”_ _

__Mikey looks at him with a quizzical look on his face that Pete can’t quite decipher, though there’s a wash of relief around his eyes, his mouth looks softer._ _

__“Can we kiss again?” he asks simply.  
“Yep,” Pete grins and grins, and then presses his smile to Mikey’s mouth._ _

__He kisses Mikey softly this time, their lips just barely brushing. They kiss tentatively, relearning and re-exploring each other's mouths, tongues, lips. They’re still sitting fairly far apart on the couch and just about holding hands, and it’s all pretty innocent, but Pete wants more. He wants to relearn Mikey’s arms and chest and stomach and thighs and anything else that Mikey wants to share with him._ _

__Pete shifts forward, and Mikey seems to take that as his cue and moves forward too, ending up half in Pete’s lap. Pete smiles against Mikey’s mouth again, because he remembers this, the slow, easy kissing, drawing arcs on Mikey’s back, inching him ever closer until they’re pressed together completely. As soon as Mikey is _right against him,_ Pete can feel Mikey’s hard-on firm against his thigh. _ _

__And forget all that jerking off and fantasising that Pete has been doing for weeks, _this_ is the hottest thing he can remember; a fully clothed Mikey stoking his tongue into Pete’s mouth and being hard as fuck because of it._ _

__Mikey’s hands begin to move, and Pete’s do, too. It begins with slow, gentle movements, Pete running his hands over Mikey’s arms and up over his shoulders, into his hair. Mikey’s breath hitches a little when Pete tugs, and Mikey skims over Pete’s chest, grazing a nipple through his shirt. Mikey’s hand heads south, down Pete’s chest and over his stomach. It sneaks in under Pete shirt by just a few inches and Mikey rubs along Pete’s the skin of stomach, and Pete’s cock jumps from the delicious feeling of Mikey’s hands on him. Pete is kinda hoping that Mikey will head further down, but he stops, fingertips pressed lightly against Pete’s flat belly and pulls back a fraction._ _

__“Do you want to kiss all night?” Mikey’s voice sounds low, gruff, and hot as hell.  
“No,” Pete says, and it comes out a little coy. He _could_ do this all night, no problem, no complaints at all. But given the option he’d like more than that. “I want to kiss you, but I want to do other things too, please. It’s been a long time. Can I take this off?” Pete pulls at Mikey’s hoody and Mikey nods and pulls it off. Pete tugs on the hem of Mikey’s shirt too, and Mikey gives him a little smile and pulls it over his head._ _

__They kiss again, and Pete’s hands roam over Mikey’s chest and stomach this time, up his arms, and down his back. Mikey’s body has changed a little with time, but not enough for this to feel different. Mikey fits his hands to Pete’s hips again and move up under the fabric of his shirt. They break apart for Mikey to pull the shirt off, and Pete grins because he knows how good the next bit is going to be._ _

__Once Pete pulls them back together, he could be twenty-six again, hidden in an unclean bunk, still and quiet, while the rest of the world goes forward without them. It feels like little electric currents running through Pete’s skin every time Mikey touches a new area of his chest, back, hips, and Mikey’s skin feels like velvet under his hands._ _

__They take a second to breathe, eventually, and their faces are so close._ _

__“It’s weird making out with you on my couch,” Pete says, and his voice comes out more amused, and far, far lower than he’d expected._ _

__Mikey laughs a little. “Why?” he asks, and rubs the tip of his nose against Pete’s, closing his eyes and dropping another little kiss to Pete’s lips.  
“I feel like we should be in a tiny space like a bunk.”  
“We can go crawl under your bed if you want a small space to do this in?” 

__Pete laughs this time. “Not under the bed. But you could come upstairs.” He feels brave as he says it, still thinking that there’s a possibility Mikey will say no. Mikey doesn’t, though._ _

__Pete leads Mikey up to his room by the hand, and it feels like a much longer walk than usual, anticipation building step by step._ _

__It goes quickly from standing awkwardly at the door, to Pete walking Mikey across the room, to getting tangled together on Pete’s bed. Soon Mikey is pinning Pete down, straddling his thighs, their sweaty chests pressed together, and Mikey’s hair falls over his face, making a little curtain around them as they kiss. They’re both so hard, and Pete can feel Mikey’s dick push against him every time their hips grind together, making Pete gasp into Mikey’s mouth. Pete’s hands are above his head and held in Mikey’s, and Pete wishes he could take a snapshot of this exact moment because to him this feels perfect._ _

__They spend a while just rolling around, lazily kissing, remapping each other’s bodies with fingers first and then mouths. When Pete is on top, he kisses and licks any and all of Mikey’s skin he can, from his neck right down to his belly button. When Mikey flips them, he does the same._ _

__“Fuck,” Pete breathes as Mikey moves down his body and kisses his ribs and stomach. Mikey gets to Pete’s waistband and works the button and fly open. Then he fits his mouth over the head of Pete’s dick and sucks gently through the fabric. Pete’s hips stutter and jerk, and the thought of Mikey’s mouth on him is hot enough to make him moan again._ _

__“Fuck. If you go down on me. I can’t. I won’t last.”  
“I don’t ever remember you turning down a blowjob in the past.” Mikey sounds amused. He rests his chin on Pete’s flat belly and looks up at him._ _

__“When you say it like that it sounds very wrong,” Pete grins. “But I guess I’m turning it down. I’d rather do other stuff.”  
“Can I fuck you? Or you do you want to fuck me?”_ _

“Ohgodfuckyes,” Pete says, and closes his eyes as Mikey rubs his hand over Pete’s boxers. “Yes. Fuck me. _Please_.” And god, Pete needs that now, right now. He wants Mikey inside him more than anything; tongue, fingers, cock, whatever Mikey will allow. “But we need to get naked. Pants off, Way.” 

__“Were you always this smooth?” And there’s the little quirk of Mikey’s lips, the barely-there smirk, and Pete’s heart swell up. He’s missed Mikey’s ability to control his face in almost any situation._ _

__“No, that’s new actually.”_ _

__They only ever did this twice. The first time was during Warped, near the end of the summer, and they had a hotel night. They were so careful and tentative, afraid of hurting each other, but it was amazing, and intimate on a level that Pete wasn’t even aware of beforehand. It happened just once after that, on a short and frantic date before they properly broke up, and Pete thought that the nature of it would somehow pull them closer together, but it didn’t work. Even though Pete casually hooked up with a few guys after Mikey, he’s never let anyone fuck him again._ _

__They have a plan now, a plan where Pete gets fucked, and Pete can’t wait, but when all clothes are removed Pete still can’t help but pull Mikey on top of him and revel in the feeling of so much naked skin against his own._ _

__Mikey lies beside Pete as he fingers him, and Pete can’t take his eyes off him unless it’s to close them when Mikey presses against his prostate. It’s overwhelming and amazing how intimate it feels to have Mikey’s fingers working inside him._ _

__“You look really hot when you do that,” Mikey says.  
“Do what?”  
“Make that face.”  
“Which face?”  
“The one you make when I do this,” he says and crooks his fingers again.  
“Fuckfuckfuck. Okay, _that_ face. Do it again.” 

__Mikey presses again and then adds a third finger, and smirks when Pete obviously makes some variation of the face that Mikey mentioned before, but Pete is concentrating so much on how good it feels to have _Mikey Way’s fingers in his ass_ to know exactly. _ _

__Really Mikey should fuck Pete from behind, it’s been so, so long since Pete had anything bigger than his own finger in his ass, and it would probably be more comfortable if they take a shallower position, but he doesn’t want to miss out on seeing Mikey’s face. He’s nervous though, as he watches Mikey roll a condom on and slick himself up with lube. And he’s not sure if he’s reading it correctly, but he thinks there’s a veil of nerves over Mikey’s face, too._ _

__Pete has always thought that Mikey walks that strange, thin line between elegant and awkward, and he can see both in Mikey’s movements as he crawls over Pete, kisses him slowly, and then gets into position between Pete’s open legs._ _

__Pete’s so turned on he’s a little dizzy as Mikey lines himself up and pushes slowly, slowly forwards. Mikey makes a beautiful broken moan as he presses inside._ _

__Pete feels so full; full of love and pleasure and Mikey. It’s not painful and not quite uncomfortable, but it feels like a lot, and he thinks that’s probably the enormity of the situation as well as the fact that he’s got Mikey inside him again after so goddamn long. He reaches down and touches the base of Mikey’s dick, the ring of the condom and the tangle of hair where Mikey’s buried inside him. Pete then slides his hand up over Mikey’s flat stomach, feeling the muscles tense and release and tense again every time he moves into Pete._ _

__It’s fast and sweaty from the get-go. They’ve taken it so slow until the point, re-familiarizing themselves with each other’s bodies, but now there’s so much need and energy, and when Pete pulls Mikey down to kiss him, it’s with hunger and intent. Although Pete would like to savour every second and remember every detail so he can jerk off over it later, it ends up as a blur of panting out moans, sweat-slicked limbs, and grasping at each other. Mikey kisses him, messy and wet and uncoordinated, and makes such gorgeous, desperate noises when he bottoms out._ _

__Pete clenches tight around Mikey’s dick, and it’s going to hurt every time he moves tomorrow, but he doesn’t care. Mikey pushes Pete’s knees up higher, hooking both legs over his shoulders, and Pete holds on so tight his ankles feel numb. The change in position sends Mikey deeper still, and Pete moans low, again and again._ _

__Pete cups his hand to Mikey’s jaw, and Mikey turns his head, closes his eyes and kisses what he can reach of Pete’s hand. Mikey is so gorgeous that Pete’s breath catches again as he watches Mikey’s face contort into bliss when he moves, and Pete moves his thumb to catch a drip of sweat that’s rolling down from Mikey’s temple._ _

__“Pete, I’m gonna. I need a second,” Mikey pants. He slows his thrusts down, going a fraction of the speed but keeping his moves deep. Pete is close, and if Mikey has to slow down, then he is too, so Pete wraps a hand around Mikey’s neck and pulls him down to kiss him again, and it’s needy and messy, and so good._ _

__After a couple of minutes of slow, deep, rocking thrusts, Pete is desperate. “Please Mikey. _Please._ Come on. I need. Go _hard_. Please.” Mikey manages a smile, huge and filthy, and he speeds up again, fucking into Pete, snapping his hips forward, and Pete just lies there taking it, feeling every movement, and he can’t believe it’s been nearly ten years since he last got to do this._ _

__Pete comes first, and it’s when Mikey takes hold of his dick and jerks him in rhythm with the thrusts. He cries out, overwhelmed, joyous at his release. He lies there, trying to catch his breath and Mikey ruts into him hard, until he’s coming with a long groan that’s only barely muffled by Pete’s neck. He lies heavily on top of Pete, fucked out and spent, until he turns his head enough that Pete can catch him in a kiss._ _

__Pete doesn’t move until he absolutely has to, nudging Mikey so Mikey will pull out, and it’s only because they’re gross and covered in drying sweat and come. He disposes of the condom for Mikey, because Mikey looks wrecked and incapable of moving, and Pete even manages to find some tissues to wipe them both up a little. Then he’s right back into Mikey’s arms, where he still can’t believe he’s allowed to be, naked and exhausted and so happy he could burst._ _

__Mikey kisses him slow and lazy again, and then plants a kiss on his forehead. That’s always the thing with Mikey; he can go from wanting and dirty, to cute as a basket of kittens in zero point three seconds, and it’s always baffled Pete a little._ _

__"You had better be staying the night," Pete says, and Mikey kisses him on the temple and then the lips in reply.  
"Nah, I’ve had my fun now, Wentz, I’ll be on my way." Mikey shifts and shuffles down the bed enough to get his head on Pete’s chest, and Pete has to remind himself again that this is actually happening. It feels too good to be true.  
"Knew you were just using me for my body, Mikeyway,” Pete giggles and Mikey echoes it. Pete stares into kind, hazel eyes, wraps his arm around Mikey, and then tightens his grip just a little bit more. “Go on then. Get the fuck out of my bed.” He can’t keep his face straight, and even less so when he kisses Mikey on the nose. 

__Mikey looks like he’s pretending to think hard, making adorable little thoughtful faces and chewing on his lip. "You kinda tired me out, though. I might have a little nap first"._ _

__“Good. Stay,” Pete says, just to say out loud what he so badly wants. He wants to wake up in his own bed with Mikey beside him. It’s something that they never got to do properly, because even on the few occasions they were together after that summer, it was always a hotel bed._ _

__They lie together for a while, mostly in silence, and Pete can’t remember the last time he was this content and at ease._ _

__"Big spoon or little spoon?" Mikey asks finally, when his eyes are closing and Pete can’t stifle his yawns any longer._ _

__Pete doesn’t even have to think about it. "Little spoon," he replies. He kisses Mikey on the cheek, and turns on his side in the opposite direction. Mikey lines his chest up against Pete's back and snaking his arm around Pete's waist, tangling his legs with Pete's under the covers._ _

__Pete would sleep next to Mikey in any shape that Mikey asks, but given the choice, he’s never going to turn down the chance to be the little spoon when Mikey’s wrapped around him. Mikey places little kisses on Pete's shoulder and the nape of his neck and cuddles in closer, and Pete feels Mikey's breath, warm and comforting on the back of his neck. He closes his eyes and listens in the dark as Mikey’s breath evens out, getting slower and slower until he’s sure that Mikey’s asleep. It doesn’t take long for Pete to follow, and he sleeps better than he has in a very long time._ _

__*_ _

__Pete wakes with his face pressed into the pillow. He stretches a little, and he’s stiff and achy in a lot of places, and in some he’s downright _sore_. It’s that well-fucked feeling, and it only takes his brain a second to wake up properly and put everything from the night before together and the right way around. He smiles to himself and pats an arm around blindly behind him to feel for Mikey. Because Mikey actually stayed in his house. In his bed. Mikey Way. Mikey, who had confessed his love to Pete. Pete still can’t believe it._ _

__He feels nothing but pillow and bed covers, and he even sits up and looks over his shoulder in case Mikey is curled up on the far side of the bed. Pete’s heart sinks, his mind automatically jumping to the conclusion that Mikey _obviously_ ran away during the night, having changed his mind entirely about Pete. He stares at the ceiling, letting himself wallow in self-pity for a second, telling himself he should have known better; he’s not that lucky._ _

__That all evaporates into a wisp of nothing when he hears the beep of his coffee maker from downstairs. Actually it’s a series of beeps from the coffee maker, like someone is being quite mean to it. It’s only then that Pete notices the faint smell of something that could be toast wafting through his bedroom door._ _

__He lifts himself from the bed and makes his way to the door, pulling on sweat pants as he goes. When he reaches the kitchen he peers around the door and sees Mikey wearing boxers and what looks like Pete’s shirt from last night. Mikey’s back is to Pete and his head is in the fridge, obviously looking for something he can’t find._ _

__Pete watches for a moment, and he can’t get the huge smile off his face: Mikey Way is making some sort of breakfast in his kitchen. Last night wasn’t a dream and Mikey is still here, and damn he looks good in the morning. His hair is mussed up, the boxers are low on his hips and there’s a strip of skin on show just above them that Pete really wants to lick. Mikey doesn’t notice he’s being watched, and he whirls around when Pete opens his mouth._ _

__"Dude, you’re making breakfast?"_ _

__A smile spreads across Mikey's lips, and he cocks an eyebrow at Pete. "Morning. I’m trying to," he says, and puffs out his chest in mock-bravado. "I made toast, which is not exactly a gourmet breakfast, but you don’t have a lot of stuff. I made coffee too, but your coffee maker is different to mine. I’m pretty sure I made crappy coffee.”_ _

__“It’s kind of complicated. It’s, like, top of the line or something.” He winces at the end because it feels like a douchebag thing to say, feeling shy and awkward even after evening that’s happened._ _

__“Oh, it’s totally not. Mine is way more complicated. Your’s is a dinosaur in comparison.”  
“Is that so,” Pete says, and he feels a whole lot less douchey. Mikey’s amused and having fun teasing him.  
“Yeah, I just couldn’t figure it out because it felt like it’s far too easy,” Mikey has that little side smirk on his face now, the one that makes Pete’s insides do the tango. 

__“I’m sure I’ll like your crappy coffee.”_ _

__Mikey smiles again, a tiny one this time, so small that some people would miss it. Pete knows though, and Mikey leans over and presses his lips to Pete's, kissing him firmly. Pete sighs contentedly against Mikey's mouth and forgets that they both have morning breath and that Mikey could be burning his kitchen down by neglecting the toast in the toaster. When Pete looks at Mikey again it’s from under his lashes, and he feels shy again, like a silly teen blushing over a boy that gave him flowers._ _

__Pete brushes the blond hair out of Mikey's eyes and kisses him on the cheek, then takes the plate and mug from Mikey’s hands._ _

__They sit at the kitchen bench and tuck into the toast and coffee which is not so crappy after all. Pete can’t get the massive smile off his face all through breakfast, and for a second he gets a glimpse of what domestic life could be like with Mikey. It’s something that they never really got to try out the last time, life being far too crazy for anything even close to normality._ _

__Mikey flinches when he reaches across the table for the coffee pot, his movement stiff, and he makes a face at Pete._ _

__“You sore too, huh?” Pete asks. Pete couldn’t care less that his ass hurts every time he moves, it’s the best kind of pain.  
“Yeah. But I’m just a little stiff. It’s fine.”  
“So you’d be able to do physical activity again today? If you needed to, I mean.” 

__Mikey blushes and it’s beautiful. “If it was strictly necessary I could probably power through, yeah.”  
“Good to know,” Pete says, and leaves it hanging in the air. Last night was so unreal that he _definitely_ wants to repeat it, and as many times as possible. "I can’t believe you made breakfast.”_ _

__Mikey simpers. “Well, it’s an attempt. I’m decent at pancakes, but I don’t know where you keep anything so I figured that might be a bit ambitious."  
“I’ll make you pancakes sometime. I make really awesome chocolate chip ones for Bronx. Animal shapes and everything.”  
“Sounds great.” 

__Bear pads into the kitchen looking for cuddles and probably scraps too, and he sits at Pete’s feet and whimpers._ _

__“I know, buddy,” he says down to Bear who’s looking at him with huge chocolate eyes. “I’ll bring you for a walk in a little bit. Don’t sweat it. Just because I have a houseguest, it doesn’t mean I’ll neglect you.” He scratches behind Bear’s ear and Bear makes a happy sound.  
“You want to come for a walk with us? Won’t be a long one, but he needs to get out.”_ _

__“Is this what you meant by physical activity?” Mikey asks ruefully.  
“Not even close.”_ _

__There’s an expansive park nearby, so Pete takes them there for Bear to run himself ragged. It’s still comfortable between Pete and Mikey, both full of flirty smiles and little glances and touches, but after so many revelations, and so much to talk about, it feel as if there’s still a barrier between them in a way._ _

__Pete decides to open up the dialogue, and he confesses, “I was a little worried when I woke up and you weren’t in my bed. Last night was a lot to take in. I know my anxiety works overtime, but I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d freaked out.”_ _

__“No freak out,” Mikey says, as they watch Bear playfully chasing a bee. “Well, a little. I actually got up before you because I was afraid if you woke up and changed your mind about last night that it’d be too hard if I was still in bed with you.”_ _

__Pete is taken aback a little that Mikey feels as unsure about this as he does, and he nearly trips on the grass because he’s staring at Mikey rather than watching where he’s going. Pete is sure he loves Mikey, but the fact that they crashed and burned so long ago is still a shadow on the horizon he can’t fully forget about. “I’m a little freaked out too. But it’s a good freaked out, if that makes sense.”_ _

__Mikey grins. “It does. I didn’t think you’d react the way you did. I mean, I never thought that you would feel the same way. Not at all. You’ve been so good at keeping things casual when we’ve been meeting, and I thought that we had a few little moments-”  
“I thought we did too,” Pete interjects. “But I told myself they weren’t there and I was being obsessive and weird and reading into things.”_ _

__Mikey laughs. “Same. I didn’t want to ruin hanging out with you by bringing things up, but it was getting too hard.”  
“I think I could have done it. I do. But I’m so fucking glad you freaked out first, even if that must have been horrible for you.” _ _

__Mikey says nothing for a long moment and he stares down off into the distance. They watch Bear lolloping back towards them with something old and filthy in his jaw, a gift for Pete maybe. Finally Mikey looks at Pete again._ _

__“You said last night that we were young and dumb back then. Are we any older and wiser now?" he asks, and Pete laughs._ _

__"We're older," Pete decides. He’s not sure about the 'wiser' part, but maybe things can be different now. Maybe._ _

__"So what happens now? Are we going to do this?" Mikey asks carefully and Pete knows he’s not talking about getting coffee after the park. He’s talking about them._ _

__The question hangs heavy in the air between them for a long moment. Pete looks at him long and hard, searching in his eyes for anything that’s different to the answer he already knows._ _

__Their breakup was harder than any other one that Pete endured, but Mikey is also the person he’s thought of the most, and it always felt unfinished between them. He knows what he’s going to lose if it falls to pieces all over again, but he owes it to himself to give everything he has to try again._ _

__"Yes" he says. "We gotta try. Or, I want to anyway." And he does. More than anything he’s wanting in a long time.  
“I want to, too.”_ _

__Pete has no idea how the whole thing will work, or if it will work at all, but he owes it to both of them, and to the expanse of time that he’s let get away. Maybe they will crash and burn like they had years previously, or maybe he has a shot at being blissfully happy with Mikey Fucking Way. They can figure out the logistics of it later, and he knows there’s a _lot_ of things to figure out, but right now Pete is far more concerned with not letting go of Mikey again to nitpick. _ _

__Pete takes a breath and smiles. He waits for Bear to sit obediently at his feet and then clips the leash back onto his collar, ready to head back to the car. As they walk, he takes hold of Mikey’s hand. Yes, he thinks again. It has the potential to work out this time. Potential was something they didn't have the first time around, and for now potential is more than enough._ _

__END_ _


End file.
